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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26241868">Darth Vader Goes to Therapy</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyVader23/pseuds/LadyVader23'>LadyVader23</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Darth Vader Has Issues, Darth Vader gets therapy, Gen, Luke Skywalker Needs A Hug, and probably his own therapist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:41:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>41,821</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26241868</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyVader23/pseuds/LadyVader23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After a mission gone very wrong, Vader is forced into court mandated therapy to calm the concerned citizens of the galaxy. His assigned therapist? The only one who would take him: brand new therapist Luke Lars.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Luke Skywalker &amp; Darth Vader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>509</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1234</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. An Unwilling Patient</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fic has no relation to my other crack fic, Darth Vader Goes to School, but I thought it would be funny if I had another story where Vader goes to something he normally would say no to...</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Vader did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>need therapy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The idea was absolutely preposterous, and he said as much to his Master. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am a </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sith!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He fumed. He didn’t care that he hadn’t been ordered to rise from the kneeling position he’d taken up in front of his Master’s throne. He was standing now, fists clenched at his sides, teeth grinding so painfully, his entire jaw hurt. “Sith do not </span>
  <em>
    <span>go </span>
  </em>
  <span>to therapy!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sidious frowned, his eyes narrowing, but he didn’t punish him. He didn’t say anything about his insubordination. He just said, “I understand, Lord Vader. The fact is, your mission over Ryloth was a complete PR disaster. My Empire is terrified of you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That is the </span>
  <em>
    <span>point--” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They are calling for action to remove you, Lord Vader.” The Emperor stood and began to head down the steps towards him. “This is not a few, like that of the Rebellion. We can </span>
  <em>
    <span>crush </span>
  </em>
  <span>those. If I start murdering every citizen in my galaxy, I won’t have a Empire to </span>
  <em>
    <span>rule </span>
  </em>
  <span>over.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stopped in front of him, looking up to meet his eyes. “The Imperial Court has offered you going to therapy as a way to keep the peace. People have tentatively accepted it as it is.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know just as well as I do there is nothing wrong with what I did. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>ordered--” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know. I did not anticipate this response.” He said it like he’d tasted something sour. “So if a hundred and fifty--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“A hundred and fifty?!” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“--A hundred and fifty days passes and the citizens have forgotten the issue, which the vast majority of them will, you can shove the therapist out an airlock for all I care.” The Emperor brushed past him and his red guards hurried to flank him. “Expect to welcome your new therapist aboard the Executor in two days' time.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader wanted to argue. He wanted to rip the entire palace apart, brick by brick. He wanted to </span>
  <em>
    <span>roar </span>
  </em>
  <span>his rage. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But his Master’s will was done. He would have to actually comply with the Imperial Court system. He’d have to deal with some self-important </span>
  <em>
    <span>therapist </span>
  </em>
  <span>for far longer than was desirable. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If anything, he was pretty sure he’d need a therapist from his therapist by the end of all this. </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Luke Lars (or Skywalker, though that wasn’t his legal name), bounced on the balls of his feet, watching through the cockpit port windows as the Executor-Class Star Dreadnought, and flagship of Darth Vader’s fleet, came closer and closer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This was it. His first client. His first real </span>
  <em>
    <span>job. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He’d only just barely graduated from the Academy. Sure, the Academy was known mainly for it’s excellent Navy program (his first choice), but it also had a little-known but excellent counselling program designed specifically for military personnel. It was a small program--and by small, he had five others in his graduating class. The Empire wasn’t exactly...known for its emphasis on mental health. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But maybe he could change that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, he did have quite the intimidating first client. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Darth Vader. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The guy who’d apparently led a massacre of the innocent civilians on Ryloth, which had prompted massive public outcry, which had prompted the Imperial Court to mandate therapy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Normally, he wouldn’t take on someone with so much baggage. But when his superior had come to him, literally begging because every single therapist had turned the job down...he couldn’t say no. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Or, he could have. But for some reason, he found himself saying yes, and...well. Here he was. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The shuttle landed in a massive hangar, and Luke gathered his things, made sure his uniform (a plain officer’s uniform) was immaculate, and headed out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There, he found none other than the Admiral of the ship waiting for him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He paused mid-stride down the ramp, wondering why an </span>
  <em>
    <span>Admiral </span>
  </em>
  <span>was bothering to greet a lowly therapist. Surely the man had other things to do. They were still in the middle of a civil war, after all. Certain there must be a mistake, Luke glanced behind him to see if there was anyone else of note that could be on board.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No. Just him and the pilots. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe one of the pilots was related to the Admiral…? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Luke Lars?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke turned back to the Admiral, and resigning himself to the odd greeting party, completed walking down the ramp. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And found himself staring at a middle aged human male with so many bags under his eyes, Luke immediately began to grow concerned. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Did this man ever </span>
  <em>
    <span>sleep? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, hi.” He greeted, and winced. That wasn’t a very professional greeting. His inner Tatooine farm boy was showing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But the Admiral didn’t look offended. “Whatever you do, do not greet Lord Vader like that.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t say it unkindly, but Luke flushed anyway. “Sorry.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Admiral shrugged. “We are getting the mistakes out now, I suppose.” He held out a hand. “I am Admiral Firmus Piett.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke took his hand. The Admiral’s grip was like iron, and he wondered if there was more energy in this man than he initially thought. “Luke Lars, though you can call me--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Admiral Piett held up a hand. “Please. I do not do nicknames, Mr. Lars.” He frowned, looking him over. “How...old are you, exactly?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke straightened to his full height. He no longer was embarrassed by his small stature, but he still had the habit of trying to make himself look taller anyway. “I’m twenty three, sir.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s...young.” The Admiral frowned. “Too young.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke’s brows knitted together in confusion. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What was </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>supposed to mean? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But before he could ask, the older man shook his head. “Well. Best be getting you to your quarters and your new office.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Again, Luke couldn’t help but feel the thrill of excitement flow through him as he followed the Admiral. Sure, being a therapist hadn’t been his first choice, but...well, it was the safe choice, and the only way his Uncle Owen would let him leave Tatooine. But now he had his own </span>
  <em>
    <span>office, </span>
  </em>
  <span>on board the greatest vessel in the entire galaxy! That was still pretty exciting. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he didn’t get to admire the ship for long. As they began walking through corridors that all looked the same, the Admiral began to speak. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I must confess, I personally wanted to speak with you before you meet Lord Vader.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke frowned, his excitement draining. Not five minutes, and he was already on the job. “I’m afraid I can’t discuss other patients--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I’m not asking </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>to talk to me about Lord Vader.” The Admiral interrupted. “I’m here to tell </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>how you can survive him.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke stumbled, then hurried to catch up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” he asked, staring at the Admiral incredulously. “How I can </span>
  <em>
    <span>what?” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Admiral Piett glanced at him. “Surely you’ve heard rumors of Lord Vader and his...exploits.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t live under a rock, but he’s one of the most powerful men in the entire galaxy. There are bound to be rumors.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And some obviously not, if the massacre on Ryloth was anything to go by… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There are rumors. And then there are many that are...not.” Admiral Piett winced. “Always address him as Lord Vader. Do not talk back. If you have to counter, say, </span>
  <em>
    <span>with all due respect, </span>
  </em>
  <span>before you do it. If you mess up...well, first of all, </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t. </span>
  </em>
  <span>But if you do, fix it. Do not make him get involved in something he doesn’t have to be involved in. Do not make excuses. Do not get in his way.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By then, they’d reached a set of double doors, and Admiral Piett opened the doors. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just. Keep your head down as much as possible. I know you currently have a court order protecting you...but don’t assume it will be that much protection.” He stopped in the middle of a waiting area and turned to face him. “Got it?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke just stared at him. “Are you sure you don’t want to set up an appointment with me?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Admiral Piett just smiled. “I think you should just focus on Lord Vader for right now. If...well. Let’s talk in a week or so.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He got the message loud and clear: he apparently wasn’t expected to survive the week. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well. He was starting to understand why none of the other therapists were willing to take this job on. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is your waiting room.” Admiral Piett pointed to the door straight ahead of them. “That is your office.” He pointed to the right. “And that is your quarters.” He turned to Luke. “I hope this will work?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke nodded. “I’ll make it work, Admiral.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good.” He straightened. “Well. Good luck, Mr. Lars. Please remember what I told you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m pretty sure I won’t forget.” It was honestly the strangest, and most terrifying greeting Luke had ever received. But he remained in his calm, happy place. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d need to, if he had hope of helping someone who apparently scared his Admiral enough to come warn the new resident therapist about his boss. </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>The living quarters were small, barely bigger than a closet. His bed barely fit in it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Translation: He wasn’t wanted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, the waiting room and office were decent enough, and his office had a huge port window looking out over the stars. He knew what he’d be doing when he wanted a mental break from work. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He only had twenty four hours to prepare for his first and only patient. He arranged the waiting room the way he wanted it. He added a few motivational posters to the walls. He rearranged his office so it was a little less...military standard. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ideally, he’d have more things to somehow make the overly sterile military environment feel more...homey. But he’d only had a few paychecks, so he didn’t have much to use. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And apparently, according to the Admiral, he may never get to that point. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He decided not to think about that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That night before bed, he read up on his new patient. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Darth Vader,</b>
  <span> the file read, </span>
</p>
<p><b>Age:</b> <em><span>Unknown</span></em></p>
<p>
  <b>Sex:</b>
  <em>
    <span> Identifies as male</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p><b>Romantic Interests:</b> <em><span>Unknown</span></em></p>
<p><b>Occupation:</b> <em><span>Commander of the Imperial Navy</span></em></p>
<p><b>Weight:</b> <em><span>Unknown</span></em></p>
<p><b>Health:</b> <em><span>More info to come </span></em></p>
<p><b>Reasons for Therapy:</b> <em><span>Court mandate for 150 days. Massacred half the population of Ryloth. </span></em></p>
<p>
  <span>It...was pretty bare bones. But, unlike other patients, there was plenty of information about his patient through news sources. Still, those didn’t help much either. They were all Imperial propaganda. Even the Ryloth incident had been scrubbed from the holonet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well. He’d just have to ask then, wouldn’t he? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The day came. It was a morning appointment, and Luke was waiting in the waiting room at 08 hundred sharp, trying to contain the nervous excitement coursing through him. Despite what the Admiral said, Luke had to believe he could maybe get through to him…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even if he had killed a bunch of innocent people. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The doors swished open, and in came Darth Vader. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke had seen Vader’s image on the holonet. There had even been a picture of him in his file. But nothing could fully prepare him for the real deal.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>First of all, he was...tall. Much taller than he expected. He was glad therapy was mostly done sitting down or he’d get a crick in his neck from having to look up at him for an hour each session. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then there was the atmosphere. It was like the man was a walking air conditioning unit. He immediately wanted to go grab his jacket from his closet-room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And...well. Of course there was the rather interesting suit and cape to match. But Luke already knew to expect that. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>expect the respirator to be so loud, though. He wished he’d been sent the medical files for this man, because just looking at him, he had no doubt physical health issues probably played into his mental health.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good morning, Lord Vader.” He greeted, offering a smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that’s where he apparently went wrong. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Though the mask never changed expression, he had the distinct impression he was being glared at. Then Vader stormed up until he was towering over him, shoving a finger in his face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let’s get one thing straight, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Therapist,” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke’s brows shot up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do not like you. You are not </span>
  <em>
    <span>necessary </span>
  </em>
  <span>on board my ship. This is purely a sham to get the citizens of the galaxy to calm down over the Ryloth incident!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wasn’t sure he’d call what happened on Ryloth a mere </span>
  <em>
    <span>incident-- </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you know what is good for you, you will mark that I’ve shown up for all of your stupid, idiotic sessions, and that I am cleared for duty!” The finger pointed closer into his face. It was an effort to ignore it and keep his eyes on the mask. “Have I made myself clear?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This was certainly an introduction. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Already Luke’s mind was whirling with information...perhaps too much information, none of which he could work on and solve out in the waiting room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It seemed Vader most certainly was a complicated case. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s nice to meet you, Lord Vader.” He replied, his voice reflecting a calm he definitely didn’t feel at the moment. “I’m afraid it isn’t ethical to say you’ve appeared at your required appointments when you haven’t, and I cannot clear you for duty unless I’ve at least had a chance to assess the situation.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Assess--? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Did I </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>make myself clear?!” Vader stepped closer. The gesture was somehow extremely threatening, but Luke managed to hold his ground. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Perfectly, My Lord.” He gestured towards his office door. “Let’s discuss further in my office, shall we?” </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>The moment Vader stepped into the stupid therapist’s office, he snarled, “If you do not write that report, you will not live to write </span>
  <em>
    <span>any </span>
  </em>
  <span>reports!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He watched the boy (a literal </span>
  <em>
    <span>child) </span>
  </em>
  <span>walk calmly around his desk and sit down. Once he had, he simply looked at Vader with what appeared to be little concern for his own wellbeing. “Would you be more comfortable if you sat down, My Lord?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader hissed furiously. What was </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong </span>
  </em>
  <span>with this kid?! Didn’t he know who he was?! Hadn’t he heard the rumors?! Perhaps he needed to show him--</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No. He couldn’t lose it just yet. He had to maintain the stupid appearance his Master wished to show the galaxy, and killing his therapist on the first day didn’t seem to exactly fit that image. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will </span>
  <em>
    <span>stand.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He crossed his arms and glared as though to challenge the boy into making him do anything else. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But the boy appeared unconcerned. He merely pulled out a datapad and straightened in his seat. “Very well. Whatever makes you comfortable.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What would make me comfortable is if I was allowed to strangle you! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He bit his tongue. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was Darth Vader. He could handle this. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think we need to try our introductions again. I am Lu--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your name could be </span>
  <em>
    <span>Idiot </span>
  </em>
  <span>for all I care.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy stared at him...and set his datapad down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Normally the first session is just to get to know each other a bit more and help me understand some of your needs.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That sounds utterly ridiculous. We will not be getting to know each other, not while I still draw breath!” He again pointed at the boy, hoping that somehow, his intimidating presence would get him to cave. It worked on everyone else, after all. “You are an insignificant pawn in the Emperor’s scheme of Imperial stability. Nothing more!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy’s expression didn’t change. “Yes, but you are here for an hour--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“An hour?!” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, My Lord.” The boy tilted his head. “Unless you’d like to schedule longer sessions?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader snarled. “Maybe your name </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>Idiot. I have said absolutely nothing to indicate that I want to spend more time with you!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy raised one eyebrow. “So you have </span>
  <em>
    <span>said.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Before Vader could demand what he was implying, he continued. “Why are you so averse to knowing my name?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader rolled his eyes. “You are nothing but a waste of my time.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why do you view me as a waste of your time?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because there is </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing </span>
  </em>
  <span>wrong with me! I have the perfect temperament for my position, and a mere child could never even begin to understand what it is I deal with!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So there </span>
  <em>
    <span>are </span>
  </em>
  <span>things you deal with that you find frustrating?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are currently one of those frustrating issues I am dealing with!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am an issue you cannot currently get rid of without causing more trouble for yourself.” He pointed out so casually, it was like he’d chosen to ignore the death threat he’d delivered earlier. “While I am young, I assure you, I am a qualified therapist who at the very least can point you to the right resources to get what you need to heal.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sneered at the boy. “I do not need </span>
  <em>
    <span>healing.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He didn’t say that what injuries he did have, </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>heal more than they already had. “If I wanted assistance, I already have every resource at my disposal. I am Darth Vader, Supreme Commander of the Imperial Navy, heir to the entire Empire! I can have whatever I want!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy nodded as though he’d said something important. “So, you take your job very seriously, then?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Obviously.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then because the results of our time together impact your job, I would ask that you at least try to take our time together seriously.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader snorted. This showed just how little the boy knew. “This does not impact my job.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Doesn’t it?” He learned back in his chair. “The citizens of the galaxy are upset about the...Ryloth </span>
  <em>
    <span>incident, </span>
  </em>
  <span>as you called it. This prompted the Imperial Court to make a ruling to send you to therapy for a required amount of time, and the Emperor approved of the ruling.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It is a formality. The Emperor could care less whether you pass me for duty or not!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tilted his head in acknowledgment. “Probably so. However, has the Emperor expressed concerns over your actions in the past?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was about to confidently reply that he hadn’t...but he stopped. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Technically, the Emperor didn’t approve of his actions frequently. He’d received multiple punishments for killing servants of the Empire Sidious deemed useful. He also knew the Emperor didn’t like that he’d failed so deeply in his fight against Kenobi that he’d been reduced to this suit. He had no doubt that he’d be replaced if the Emperor ever found anyone more able-bodied and powerful than him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There are consequences to our actions.” The boy continued. “While you might get away with it this time, you might not forever. If I’m not mistaken, you seem to like your job a lot. It would be unfortunate if your actions lost you your job.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He...had a point. In a roundabout way. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader hated it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Fine.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Vader snarled. “But I will never stop hating you!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And the moment he was no longer useful…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fair enough.” The boy replied with that same calmness. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He glared. Then, “I suppose I cannot continue to call you Idiot, though you are one.” Even if he had made a somewhat valid point, “What should I call you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy seemed pleased with his response, and he again rolled his eyes, resisting the urge to strangle the boy for his idiocy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My name is Luke Lars, but I like to be called Luke Sk--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will not call you a ridiculous nickname.” Vader held up a hand to stop him. “If I am feeling generous, I will call you by your given name.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy, Luke Lars, made a face, but nodded. “Alright. Good. Now. Let’s talk…” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Boundaries</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“You are an interesting case, Lord Vader.” Luke admitted, looking through the information he’d collected on his datapad. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What did you call me?!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a struggle to keep a neutral expression. He’d never met anyone quite so...touchy. “You are well known enough that I can answer some of the standard questions I’m supposed to go through in this initial session. That’s all I meant.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader crossed his arms over his chest. With the mask, he couldn’t tell if he’d successfully placated him or not. “Good. Then we will not waste any further time.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke tried to ignore the simmering anger in Vader’s voice. Was that even his voice? It sounded like there was some kind of vococorder in the helmet. Perhaps it was part of his medical condition? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For example.” He continued. “I know you started your job about the same time as when the Empire was formed. But I don’t know where you were born, or where you are from. Let’s start with that. Where are you from?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There. An easy question to begin with. It could be answered in less than five words, if he so wished. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Apparently, Luke was </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>wrong. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You do not need information like that!” Vader snarled, taking a threatening step towards him, shoving a pointed finger his direction. “You do not need </span>
  <em>
    <span>any </span>
  </em>
  <span>of my personal information!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke took a long, silent, deep breath to steady himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Often even simple personal details like where we come from can be major factors in not only our mental health, but also our decision making.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I assure you, where I am from has </span>
  <em>
    <span>no bearing </span>
  </em>
  <span>on my actions!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke lifted a brow. “Then it shouldn’t be an issue telling me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader was silent, save for the respirator, and Luke got the distinct impression he was being glared at. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If it helps, anything you say in our session is confidential.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was no further elaboration. Luke decided to write </span>
  <em>
    <span>To be determined </span>
  </em>
  <span>next to that question. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How old are you?” Surely, that was simple enough. Age wasn’t a secret for most people...except his aunt who refused to say she was over the age of twenty eight every single year on her birthday. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Why </span>
  </em>
  <span>do you need to know that?!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Yet again. He was way wrong. This was </span>
  <em>
    <span>small talk </span>
  </em>
  <span>conversation and already Vader was acting like he’d started digging at his deepest secrets. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe he was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Challenges and priorities change as we move into different age groups.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have defeated every challenge, and the ones I have not yet defeated I am well on my way to doing so!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke was pretty sure he was only focusing on the military challenges.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lord Vader.” Luke leaned forward, placing the datapad on his desk. “You indicated that you would be willing to give this a try--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Willing is a </span>
  <em>
    <span>generous </span>
  </em>
  <span>word.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...I am aware. Still, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>indicate that. And if we’re going to have any chance of anything being effective, you need to at least try to answer some basic questions.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The questions are stupid.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Regardless, there is a reason for it. Do you berate your doctors when you go see them?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I use </span>
  <em>
    <span>droids. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Besides, physical health is not the same as your ridiculous, useless job.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh boy. Vader was one of </span>
  <em>
    <span>those </span>
  </em>
  <span>people. Luke wasn’t surprised. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mental health is just as vital as physical health.” Vader made a noise that sounded like a scoff. “If you’ll give me a chance, I can prove it to you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I would like to see you try.” Vader spat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Great. So, how old are you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke half expected him to not answer, or if he did, start yelling at him again. Or...potentially worse. But Vader finally growled, “Forty five. Happy?!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you.” He entered the information into his intake form, still wondering why that was such top secret information. But as he finished, suddenly, the datapad was ripped from his hands by some unknown, unseeing force. He sucked in a surprised breath, quickly scrambling for it, worried he’d somehow done something to make it do that...but no. He watched as it flew across the room and into Vader’s outstretched hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a moment, he just stared, dumbfounded as Vader started scrolling through the intake form. “All of these questions are stupid and useless.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So. Apparently, the rumor that Vader had...supernatural abilities wasn’t just a rumor after all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He...honestly wasn’t sure what to do with that information. The Academy definitely hadn’t prepared him for </span>
  <em>
    <span>that. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nevertheless. It will be faster if I just answer the information for you.” And sure enough, he began to enter his intake information on his own. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well. At least he was cooperating? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke watched, hand still outstretched towards the datapad, resting on the cool metal surface of his desk. Finally, Vader finished, and floated the pad back to him, setting it down in front of him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...So.” Luke said, reluctantly leaning back in his chair, the intake information momentarily forgotten. “I think we need to have a discussion on boundaries.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Like how you have violated all of my boundaries by being assigned as my therapist?” Vader suggested. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s...not exactly what I had in mind. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>think it will be mutually beneficial to discuss them, however.” Luke moved the datapad out of the way. He didn’t even want to </span>
  <em>
    <span>think </span>
  </em>
  <span>about that right now. That would involve thinking about Vader’s apparent magic powers and he was not in a position to start unpacking that. “Boundaries are a healthy foundation of any relationship, so I think it would be good to set them </span>
  <em>
    <span>realistically.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I assume that means that I cannot elect to tell you nothing about myself or strangle you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...Yes. That does tend to lead to unhealthy patterns in a relationship.” Vader made an unhappy, noncommittal noise. “In fact, let’s start there. The key to setting good boundaries is communication.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can tell you </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly </span>
  </em>
  <span>what will not happen!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So I’ve noticed. The point is, I think the first thing we need to set is limits. For example, I don’t like having my work pulled out of my hands without permission.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Especially with magic, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but he didn’t add that. “This is your file, so you are privy to your own information, but I would appreciate it if you asked me first.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>ship. Everything on it is </span>
  <em>
    <span>mine. </span>
  </em>
  <span>If I want to look at what nonsense you are writing, I will do it!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“While you are certainly in charge of this ship, and most of it is indeed yours, you cannot completely control others and their needs. Trying to do so only ends in unhealthy expectations for both parties. My request is reasonable enough, and I would ask you to respect that boundary.” He gestured to him. “How can I better respect your boundaries, Lord Vader?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“By not asking me </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything </span>
  </em>
  <span>about my past.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That...wasn’t exactly possible, considering Vader’s court-mandated situation. But instead of arguing, Luke asked, “Why are you so protective of your past?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My past is </span>
  <em>
    <span>dead.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke frowned. There was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lot </span>
  </em>
  <span>to unpack in that statement. Did that mean literally, as in the people in his past had died? Was it metaphorical? Both? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Everyone struggles with various aspects of their past. Including myself.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader snorted. “You know </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing </span>
  </em>
  <span>of suffering.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe not. But I do have things I’m not proud of. It’s a natural part of life, unfortunately. What’s important is that we reconcile with our past so that we can grow.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am a </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sith. </span>
  </em>
  <span>My past does not matter!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A Sith...Luke hadn’t heard the term before. He thought to write that down, but he was afraid that if he touched his datapad again, Vader would use his magic on him again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wait. Did being a Sith have something to do with magic? Was it the name for whatever kind of magician Vader was? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t ask. This doesn’t seem safe to ask. Don’t…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s a Sith?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For the first time the entire session, Vader...didn’t put up a fight. In fact, it was the only question he seemed pleased to answer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A Sith is what you’d call a religion dedicated to the Dark side of the Force.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That...clarified absolutely nothing. Dark side? As opposed to what other sides? Force? Was that...what he called his magic? Luke had studied various religions but he’d never heard of any of this. He hadn’t thought any of it was real. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But there Vader was, ripping his datapad out of his hand from the other side of the room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t get a chance to ask, though. “Nevermind. It is far too complicated for someone the likes of you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He debated bringing up condescending behavior as another boundary...but one step at a time, he supposed. Besides, he didn’t have such a fragile ego that he couldn’t handle it for now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>For now. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How about we make a deal.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader crossed his arms. “I am listening.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Unfortunately, asking personal questions is the core of my job--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then you should find a new, less useless job.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Internally, Luke added </span>
  <em>
    <span>Work on limiting interruptions </span>
  </em>
  <span>to the new Eventual Boundaries list that was rapidly growing in his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If I leave, then the court will just send another therapist and you’ll have to keep going through this same discussion again and again. Seems like a waste of time to me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He waited for Vader to find some flaw or loophole (and half feared what it might be), but Vader just stared at him, waiting for him to continue. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Success. Small success, but...success. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I propose that you at least </span>
  <em>
    <span>attempt </span>
  </em>
  <span>to tell me what you feel comfortable sharing with me when I ask you questions. If you are completely uncomfortable with a question, you can pass. In return, if you would like to see my notes or anything else I have that I can reasonably show you, you will ask and respect my response.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He held his breath, waiting for Vader’s response. He still stared at him with that ever-unchanging helmet. Then, finally, Vader tilted his head. “I will agree to these terms. Though I still maintain that you are a waste of air aboard my ship.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well. At least he’d agreed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think that’s a great start.” He smiled, ignoring the sound of disgust Vader made in response as he stood. “That is the end of our time, so--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t get a chance to finish. Without another word, Vader turned and stormed out of the room. The last Luke saw of him was his cape swishing behind him as the doors to his office closed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke stood there staring at the door for a long while, breath held...then let it out in a sigh. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was starting to see why the other therapists were reluctant to take this job. Did they know about Vader’s magic powers too? Or that he apparently followed some kind of religion called the Sith? Or was it just Vader’s hostile behavior towards anything remotely resembling a normal conversation? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke was starting to suspect it might be all of those reasons...and possibly more. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sat back down in his chair, finally pulling the datapad back to him to take a look at what Vader had written down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The responses were...interesting. </span>
</p>
<p><b>Name:</b> <em><span>Darth Vader</span></em></p>
<p><b>Age:</b> <em><span>45</span></em></p>
<p><b>Date of Birth:</b> <em><span>Unknown</span></em><span> (Did that mean he actually didn’t know his date of birth or was he messing with him? Luke wasn’t sure) </span></p>
<p><b>Relationship Status:</b> <em><span>NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS </span></em><span>(Had Vader actually put on the caps lock? He didn’t seem the type of guy to do that) </span></p>
<p>
  <b>Comm number</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>11111</span>
  </em>
  <span> (This was obviously a fake comm number...Luke made a note to ask him who he should contact if he needed to get in touch with him)</span>
</p>
<p><b>Email:</b> <em><span>I get enough mail without you adding to it </span></em><span>(Honestly, Luke couldn’t even disagree with that) </span></p>
<p><b>Mailing Address:</b> <em><span>Executor. Just ask Admiral Piett</span></em><span> (Didn’t Admirals have better things to do than be asked questions by a therapist? Was Vader saying he was giving Admiral Piett consent to discuss his medical information? Luke would definitely need to circle back to this one) </span></p>
<p><b>Emergency Contact:</b> <em><span>Admiral Piett</span></em><span> (Really, what was the story here? Did the Admiral know Vader had listed him as an emergency contact?) </span></p>
<p>
  <b>Behavior (Circle):</b>
  <span> Vader hadn’t circled anything except </span>
  <em>
    <span>Work Too Hard</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Luke was pretty sure, based on their conversation thus far, that </span>
  <em>
    <span>Aggressive Behavior</span>
  </em>
  <span> at the very least applied...but it wasn’t his intake form. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Feelings (Circle):</b>
  <span> Vader had circled </span>
  <em>
    <span>Annoyed</span>
  </em>
  <span> and then in the Other space wrote </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I feel this is a total waste of my time.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> At least he’d phrased it in a somewhat productive manner. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Physical (Circle):</b>
  <span> He hadn’t circled anything and instead wrote,</span>
  <em>
    <span> “Never ask me this question again if you value your life.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> That...was less productive. </span>
</p>
<p><b>Reason for Therapy:</b> <em><span>“Because the galaxy is stupid and thinks I need it.” </span></em></p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Well.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Luke thought, going to his own files to write his notes about the session, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I think you’re the person most in need of therapy, that’s for sure. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Vader stopped outside the office, debating on turning around to murder the kid anyway. Yes, he’d made a few valid points, about how the Emperor could try to get rid of him in favor of a younger, more powerful Sith, and how the Imperial Court would just send another stupid therapist for him to start over with. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe I could just kill every single one they send, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he considered, turning to look at the closed office door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But...no. That could potentially speed up his master’s displeasure. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d have to deal with the boy and his stupid questions. </span>
  <em>
    <span>For now. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It helped that the boy had given him a loophole in their little deal they’d made. Vader planned on using it to the full extent. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader turned to leave the waiting room...and paused, his eye catching on a poster. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Pain is real. But so is Hope”</span>
  </em>
  <span> one said over a sunset. Vader made a face and turned to survey the rest of the room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There were more posters. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Strength doesn’t come from what you can do. It comes from overcoming the things you once thought you couldn’t.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Disgusting</span>
  <em>
    <span>. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Watch your thoughts, for they become words. Watch your words, for they become actions. Watch your actions, for they become habits. Watch your habits, for they become character. Watch your character, for it becomes your destiny.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader rolled his eyes. What did that boy know about destiny? Absolutely nothing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There were a few medical-related posters, but the final supposed motivational poster read in colorful letters:</span>
  <em>
    <span> “5 Steps to Manage Emotions.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader moved closer to read the below text. </span>
</p>
<ol>
<li>
<em><span>Remind myself it’s never okay to hurt others.</span></em>
</li>
</ol>
<p>
  <span>Huh. Well. He violated that rule every day. He didn’t feel bad about it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     2.</span>
  <em>
    <span> Take 3 deep breaths and count to 10</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>What was he, five? Besides, he couldn’t control the pacing of his breathing anyway. Useless. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     3.</span>
  <em>
    <span> Use my words to say how I feel and what I wish would happen</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sith, </span>
  </em>
  <span>not a politician. Words were useless, especially when words were only used to manipulate and lie. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     4.</span>
  <em>
    <span> Ask for help from a trusted friend</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The last time he’d attempted that, he’d burned on the shores of Mustafar after his limbs were cut off and his wife and children died. He wouldn’t be making </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>mistake again. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     5. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Take time to calm down and do another activity I enjoy. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Vader...actually did do that. Either in the form of working on his ships or flying. He didn’t need a therapist to tell him to do that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Further proof he didn’t need this stupid therapist and his dumb motivational posters. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was half tempted to rip them down...but his comm beeped, reminding him of another meeting he had to get to. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Later,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he decided, finally sweeping from the room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Later. </span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Oh man this story is a lot harder to write than my other crack story, mainly because therapy is hard and writing Vader's therapy is way harder cuz...I mean that man has so many ISSUES. He did NOT want to work with Luke at all. But I think Luke handled it as well as he could have. And he's still alive!!!! So far... <br/>Leave some love! <br/>Love,<br/>LadyVader23</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Core Values</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Since he didn’t have another appointment with Vader for another few days, Luke decided to do some exploring. </p>
<p>He told himself it was for professional reasons. He even brought little business cards with him. If he was going to be here, he was determined to help as many people that needed it. Considering his interactions with the commanding officer thus far, he had a strong suspicion that there were plenty of people who needed his help. </p>
<p>But if he was honest with himself, it was really because he wanted to see the famed Executor up close and personal. </p>
<p>If he’d had the opportunity to choose, he would have joined the navy. Ships were his fascination. He often liked to say flying was in his blood. It was an instinct that he’d picked up immediately at a young age. It was like breathing. </p>
<p>Maybe one day, when he’d saved up enough, he could retire and own his own ship. He’d go out and see the galaxy...the thought made him sigh with envy. That day was a long way away though. </p>
<p>At least there was plenty to look at on the Lady Executor. Too much, in fact. It became obvious within the first fifteen minutes that this ship was way too large to tour in a single day. He’d probably leave the ship without having seen everything. But it also didn’t help that he stopped to quietly observe and piece together functions every once in a while. </p>
<p>After a while, his stomach started to rumble, and he realized he didn’t actually know where the mess hall was. He’d thus far had his food delivered, since there was a delivery service on board, but if he wanted to find potential clients, he needed to get social and make his presence known. </p>
<p>He wandered, but every hallway looked the same. There weren’t any maps or signs that pointed the way, so he took his best guess based on what looked like it might be something a mess hall was nearby. Except that was a stupid way to look for something, and he only made himself hopelessly lost. </p>
<p>“Excuse me,” He tried to stop a patrolling trooper, “Where might I find the mess hall?” </p>
<p>“Over by the crew's quarters.” Was the brisk reply. </p>
<p>Luke...had no idea where that was. “Oh...uh, where--?” </p>
<p>But the stormtrooper had already marched off. </p>
<p>So much for being helpful, Luke thought. It wasn’t like the Rebellion was going to show up in the hallways of Darth Vader’s flagship. What else did he even have to do, anyway? </p>
<p>Except that none of the troopers he tried to stop were very helpful. </p>
<p>“You’re on the wrong side of the ship, kid.” </p>
<p>“Okay, but what side--aaaannnd you’re gone.” Luke frowned before picking the opposite direction of where he’d been going and headed that way. </p>
<p>Which was useless. </p>
<p>“Excuse me--” He tried with another trooper, only to be flat out ignored. </p>
<p>Was rudeness a required trait to work on Vader’s flagship? Was it some kind of defense mechanism to protect themselves from a harsh boss? </p>
<p>By the time he gave up, his feet were sore and his stomach was practically gnawing on itself. He leaned against the wall, head pressed into his arm, groaning as he stared down at the floor. Where even was he? This is what he got for being too curious. Uncle Owen always said his curiosity would get him killed one day. He just hadn’t assumed it would be by starving to death while lost on a Super Star Destroyer. </p>
<p>Something bumped against his boot. His gaze shifted, and he found a little black mouse droid. It squeaked inquisitively, and he smiled, breaking away from the wall to kneel down before it. “Hey there little one.” He reached out and gently patted the top of the droid. It gave a pleased squeak and he chuckled. “Sorry to interrupt your routine.” </p>
<p>It continued to squeak at him, making him wish he’d had time to read that holobook on understanding binary. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to know where the mess hall is, would you?” </p>
<p>The droid beeped happily, then turned around and began to roll away. With no other options, Luke decided he had nothing to lose by following the droid. </p>
<p>Every once in a while, the little droid would stop, turn, make sure he was still following, before squeaking and leading on once more. “You know,” Luke said after a while, “You’re far more helpful than the stormtroopers I’ve asked.” </p>
<p>The droid made a noise that Luke interpreted as <em> Of course I am.  </em></p>
<p>“My name’s Luke, by the way.” He considered for a moment. “Luke Lars is my legal name. Though I wish I’d changed it to my father’s last name. No one let’s me tell them I’d prefer to be called by it on this ship.” </p>
<p>He wasn’t sure why he was telling this to a droid. He was unintentionally venting like the thing was his own personal therapist. “Sorry. I just need to find the time to change my name legally and that’ll solve the problem.” </p>
<p>The droid made a beep that sort of sounded like <em> You are good, </em>but he wasn’t sure. </p>
<p>Finally, they reached the mess hall. “Thanks!” Luke smiled. “You’re a lifesaver.” </p>
<p>The little droid made a happy noise before bumping his boot in what Luke hoped was affection before it rolled off. He watched it until it was out of sight before continuing into the hall to order his food. </p>
<p>The Executor had some decent selections. More so than many other starships, he knew. He supposed it was a benefit of working under the second most powerful man in the galaxy. He managed, therefore, to order a bantha steak and potatoes, though the steak looked a bit rubbery when he got it. Still, it wouldn’t be the worst he’d ever eaten, he was sure. </p>
<p>All that was left was to choose somewhere to sit. Somewhere he could start getting his name out there. </p>
<p>In the end, he ended up choosing the table with the largest amount of stormtroopers. Here in the mess hall, their helmets were off and placed in the center of the table. It was the only place they were allowed to take their helmets off while on duty, if he remembered regulations correctly. So he could see all of their faces when he sat down at the edge of their group, turned to them, smiled and greeted, “Hi! I’m Luke. I just got assigned here.” </p>
<p>They looked at him like he was crazy. </p>
<p>“What?” Luke’s smile faded. </p>
<p>A few glanced at each other before finally one, a man with close-cropped blonde hair, said, “You’re new to the military, aren’t you? Officers don’t usually mix with us stormtroopers.”</p>
<p>
  <em> Oh.  </em>
</p>
<p>He was wearing a basic officers uniform. There was no rank plaque; it was mainly to blend into the aesthetic of a star destroyer crew. But that probably didn’t mean that much to people who were technically lower on the hierarchy than uniformed officers...though Luke was certain that was debatable. </p>
<p>“I’m not an officer.” Luke clarified, maintaining a polite smile. “I’m a therapist. This is just what they gave me to wear while on board.” </p>
<p><em> That </em>got their attention. </p>
<p>“You mean you’re not dead yet?!” One blurted incredulously. </p>
<p>He hadn’t expected to be greeted this way, and it took him a moment to recover. “Uh. Yes? Why would I be?” </p>
<p>The troopers exchanged looks before one cleared his throat. “Well. I mean. You’re--Lord Vader...<em> damn </em>a lot of people are going to owe some money...unless you haven’t met with him yet?!” </p>
<p>Luke frowned. “I can’t divulge patient information--” </p>
<p>“So you <em> have!”  </em></p>
<p>“As I said. I will not be speaking about my patients.” </p>
<p>“Oh, so many people bet that you wouldn’t live through your first session!” </p>
<p>Well. Considering the multiple threats Vader made against him in just one session, he wasn’t completely surprised. But he <em> was </em>surprised how open the troops were about Vader’s apparent hobby of killing people for minor infractions. </p>
<p>“Well I’m not dead.” Luke said, and he pulled out multiple business cards and began passing them out. “And I don’t plan to be in the near future. So, if you or someone you know would like to set up an appointment with me, I’m currently open for clients.” </p>
<p>The troopers took the cards and began passing them out among themselves...to his pleasure. He was expecting to have to do more convincing, but apparently they either really needed therapy or they were impressed that he’d lived this long and were curious. Maybe both. </p>
<p>“Aren’t you a bit young to be a therapist?” Another trooper asked, eyeing him. </p>
<p>“I’m older than I look.” </p>
<p>“How old?” </p>
<p>He sighed. “Twenty three.” </p>
<p>“Still seems to be young for a therapist.” </p>
<p>“Yes, well, the Empire only requires four years of schooling.” He didn’t mention that if they truly valued mental health, they’d make therapists get a masters, but the Empire was...slow to care. It was a miracle there was a program at all. “I assure you, I am qualified to assist.” </p>
<p>“Sure, kid. It’s just weird, is all.” </p>
<p>“I’d appreciate it if you referred to me as Luke--” </p>
<p>He again had plans to give them the name he wished to go by when he was interrupted by a new voice. </p>
<p>“Ah, Mr. Lars.” </p>
<p>Luke sighed. Maybe he should just give up on making his last name Skywalker. His aunt and uncle had raised him anyway… </p>
<p>He turned and gave Admiral Piett a strained smile. “Good afternoon, Admiral. Care to join us?” There were a few mutters from the stormtroopers behind him, and he remembered what they’d said about officers eating separately from the troopers. That probably especially went for the Admiral of the Executor. </p>
<p>“Oh, no. I just stopped by for a brief bite to eat and saw you were here. I thought I’d say hello and ask how things are going?” </p>
<p>Luke opened his mouth to answer...and realized the entire table was staring at their food in an attempt to pretend like they weren’t listening for any detail they could use to spread juicy rumors through the ranks. </p>
<p>He cleared his throat and stood. “Perhaps we should speak alone on such matters.” </p>
<p>The Admiral glanced at the troopers and gave a brief shake of his head before he and Luke wandered away. </p>
<p>They stopped just outside the mess hall. “I apologize for disturbing your meal.” </p>
<p>“Oh, it’s fine. I’ll go back for it.” Luke smiled. “Anyway. Apparently your ship is betting against my odds at survival.” </p>
<p>Piett appeared to be unsurprised. “I may have heard something about it.” At a look from Luke, he added, “Not that I participated, I assure you.” </p>
<p>“Well...thanks, I guess. But I suppose I’m doing fine. As fine as I can be.” Given that his one and only patient made it pretty clear he wanted him dead…</p>
<p>The Admiral seemed to read between the lines. “It is an honor to serve under Lord Vader in any capacity. He is strict, but a brilliant commanding officer. He has the respect of many, including myself. I’m...not sure if that helps.” </p>
<p>It certainly gave Luke further questions. But...he’d hold off for now. </p>
<p>“Thank you, Admiral. You’ve been most kind. And your ship is impressive. I...attempted to do some exploring and got a bit lost.” </p>
<p>Piett smiled, and it seemed to be the most genuine smile he’d seen since coming aboard. “She is a beautiful ship...and yes, easy to get lost in, as well. You’ll find your way soon enough.” He straightened. “Well, if you don’t need anything else, I really must get back to the bridge--” </p>
<p>“Well...there <em> is </em>something.” Luke pulled out more business cards. “While I’m here, I’d like to help as many people as I can, not just Lord Vader. You don’t have to pass these out of course, but if you think someone might need my services…” </p>
<p>Piett took the cards, raising an eyebrow. “I haven’t seen physical business cards in years.” </p>
<p>Luke flushed. He knew they were old school, but... “I just thought they looked professional, is all.” </p>
<p>“They do.” He assured him. “I’ll hold onto them. If anyone asks, I’ll be sure to pass one along.” </p>
<p>He smiled. However stressed the Admiral appeared, Luke was starting to like the man. He seemed to genuinely care about the wellbeing of those he served...and that was a rare trait among the Imperial elite. “Thanks, Admiral.” </p>
<p>“Of course.” Piett turned, calling over his shoulder as he left, “Anything for our new resident therapist.” </p>
<hr/>
<p>Vader initially thought the hundred and fifty days started from the moment the first appointment began and ended five months later exactly. But then he read the terms of the court order and was seriously displeased to find out it meant each <em> appointment </em>counted as one day. </p>
<p>So he’d end up visiting with the stupid therapist exactly a hundred and fifty times. </p>
<p>That changed his initial plan to spread out his appointments until the days were up. With that new understanding of the rule, he was tempted to force the therapist to work with him a hundred and fifty hours straight to get it over with. He doubted that would work though, so he’d need to come up with a new plan. </p>
<p>He was Darth Vader. Therapy was useless. </p>
<p>He was mulling over the predicament when he attended his next session two days after the first. </p>
<p>“Ah. Welcome Lord Vader.” The therapist greeted with far too much enthusiasm at eight in the morning. Weren’t children his age supposed to want to sleep in? Then again, as much as he hated therapy, he didn’t want his time wasted because the boy decided to sleep in, either. The boy stepped aside to allow him to enter the office. “How have you been since I last saw you?” </p>
<p>Vader rolled his eyes. “Spare me the pleasantries, boy.” He said as he stormed inside. He took up a spot at the view port, crossing his arms as he stared out at the stars. If he had his wish, he’d be out flying right now before any of his meetings. “Let us get this over with.” </p>
<p>He listened to the door close and footsteps crossed the room to the desk at the end of it. “Alright. That’s fine.” </p>
<p>“Of course it is.” What a stupid, idiotic-- “What nonsense questions do you plan on asking me today?” </p>
<p>“Well. I thought I’d start with your emergency contact.” </p>
<p>That made him turn his head to look at the boy. He hadn’t been expecting that. He’d expected more personal, prying questions about his past. “What about it?” He snapped. </p>
<p>The boy had that stupid datapad in his hands again. “I just wondered if Admiral Piett knows that he’s your emergency contact.” </p>
<p>“Of course he does.” He replied automatically, defensively. But now that he thought about it, it had just been an immediate response. The Admiral was one of the few people he somewhat trusted. It was either him or the Emperor, and he didn’t really want the Emperor to find out more about him than was necessary. </p>
<p>Not that he wanted Piett to, either, but...if he had to have one… </p>
<p>“I just wanted to make sure.” The therapist said, making a note on his datapad. Vader tried to remember his name. Something that started with an L… “With that out of way, let’s move on.” </p>
<p>“Yes…” He was still considering the fact that he’d only been able to think of one person to list as his emergency contact. </p>
<p>“I thought today it would be good to identify core values.” He lowered the datapad, his gaze fixing on him. </p>
<p>Those eyes...they were light enough that he thought they might have been blue...they pierced him as they observed. In fact, despite the boy’s unruly blonde hair and boyish charm, there was something unnerving about him…</p>
<p>Vader decided to write it off as the boy’s unfortunate occupation making him appear more than he really was. </p>
<p>“I am not a company. I do not need to define core values and post it for the galaxy to see.” He replied, glaring at the boy behind his mask. </p>
<p>“That isn’t what I meant.” The boy had the audacity to sound amused. “I am fully aware that you are not a company...you are technically one of the main faces of the Empire, but you are still an individual who has values.” </p>
<p>Vader couldn’t help but snort. “Values are pathetic and useless.” </p>
<p>“Regardless, you <em> do </em>have values. Everyone does.” </p>
<p>“Not me.” Values was something a Jedi would have, not a <em> Sith.  </em></p>
<p>“Care to put that to a challenge then?” </p>
<p>“You <em> dare </em>challenge me?” Vader turned to face the boy fully, a move that would have frightened his entire crew. </p>
<p>But it seemed to have no effect on the boy. He simply smiled and held up his datapad. “I have a list of values here. It’s a bit lengthy, but I’d like to go through all of it with you, mark which you think you value. Once we have a list, we can narrow it down to two or three values that drive you.” </p>
<p>Vader stared at him for a moment. Then, “This sounds stupid.” </p>
<p>“According to you, everything I do is stupid.” The boy pointed out. </p>
<p>“That might be the smartest observation you have made yet.” Vader crossed his arms. “What is the point of this exercise?” </p>
<p>“It’s important to identify what our core values are.” He said. “They not only help us make decisions that’s best for ourselves, but determine why we react to things the way we do.” </p>
<p>“I have no values, I assure you.” </p>
<p>The boy lifted a brow. “Then I guess we’ll find out for sure, then, won’t we?” </p>
<p>Vader rolled his eyes. The boy was persistent, he’d give him that. “Proceed with your ridiculous exercise.” </p>
<p>That seemed to please the boy. He smiled wide, so wide it completely lit up his whole face, and Vader was left wondering when the last time he’d seen anyone look like that around him. “Alright. I’ll list them out, you tell me if you value it.” </p>
<p>He already knew the answer to all of them, but he waved the boy on. </p>
<p>“Acceptance.” </p>
<p>Vader glowered. Oh, that word had too many memories associated with it. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all... “Absolutely not.” </p>
<p>The boy react to the bitterness in his voice. </p>
<p>“Accuracy.” </p>
<p>Vader was about to say no...but he stopped. Technically, if he really thought about it, he did expect such things from those working under him...and he <em> knew </em>he was always accurate. </p>
<p>“Perhaps.” He acknowledged. </p>
<p>He half expected the boy to do some kind of gloating, but he merely marked it and moved on. </p>
<p>“Achievement.” </p>
<p>He answered without thinking. “Yes.” </p>
<p>Damn. </p>
<p>He was proving the boy right. </p>
<p>At least, partly. Most of the list was completely useless. Things like “cooperation” “helpfulness” and “galactic peace” were utterly ridiculous and of no use to anyone smart. And, true to the boys word, there were many values listed, to the point where he actually reacted strongly to a few. </p>
<p>“Family.” The boy listed. </p>
<p>Rage boiled to the surface, and he was stabbing his pointer finger at the boy. “There is <em> no use </em>of that value! It does nothing but hold you back!” </p>
<p>The boy blinked in surprise. “We can move--” </p>
<p>“Family is the galaxy’s greatest lie! In the end you are better off alone, less reason to be betrayed by those who claim to <em> love </em>you!” </p>
<p>He began to write something down on his datapad--</p>
<p>“I said it <em> wasn’t </em>a value!” Vader reached out, attempting to summon the pad to his hand like he had the first time they’d met, but the boy seemed to have learned that trick, because instead of letting go he gripped the device harder. He ended up half-pulling him out of his chair and across the desk, and he shouted as it happened. </p>
<p>“Boundaries, Lord Vader, <em> boundaries!!!”  </em></p>
<p>Reluctantly, he let go, his lip curled into a snarl. “It is <em> not </em>a value!” </p>
<p>“Yeah, I <em> got that, </em> I was just writing notes for my own personal use!” He’d settled back into his seat, straightening his uniform. He was outright scowling, and Vader noted that this was the first time he’d seen such an expression on the boy’s face. Good to know he wasn’t all sunshine and flowers. “If you wanted to see, you just needed to <em> ask.”  </em></p>
<p>Vader would not stoop to asking, though he technically sort of agreed to the ridiculous boundary. “I don’t appreciate secret notes.” </p>
<p>“I don’t appreciate being dragged out of my chair by some mystical power.” </p>
<p>“That is not my problem.” </p>
<p>He let out a sharp breath. “That isn’t the point. The point is <em> respecting </em> others boundaries and having <em> empathy.”  </em></p>
<p>“That will not get us anywhere.” </p>
<p>The boy looked at him for a while before saying, “Perhaps we should move on for now.” </p>
<p>Vader didn’t miss the <em> for now </em> part, but he had no desire to talk about <em> family, </em>so he conceded.</p>
<p>The other word that gave him a strong reaction, though he didn’t express it as vocally, was “Freedom.” </p>
<p>He was silent long enough that the boy looked up. His arms were folded again, and his fists had clenched. </p>
<p>Freedom. </p>
<p>That was a <em> loaded </em>word. </p>
<p>“Once.” He finally said. </p>
<p>The boy frowned, looking down at the list. “I guess we could leave it off for now?” When he didn’t confirm or deny, he moved on.  </p>
<p>In the end, he came up with a longer list than he expected: “Accuracy, Achievement, Authority, Challenge, Commitment, Duty, Intelligence (“Which you are not,” he immediately pointed out to the dumb therapist), Mastery, Power, and Risk.” </p>
<p>“Ten values.” The boy grinned. Force, what was the boy’s <em> name </em>again? Larry? Lucas? Lucas sounded more right than Larry… “See? I told you everyone has values.” </p>
<p>“I was expecting weak values, not strong ones.” Vader admitted. The boy seemed like the weak type of person a Jedi would like, and the Jedi were full of values that ultimately led to their downfall. </p>
<p>“Yes, well, our next goal will be to take those values and narrow them down to two or three.” </p>
<p>“Then why did you let me pick so many values?” </p>
<p>“Well if you look at the list…” He held out the datapad, actually inviting him to look at what he’d written down. Vader didn’t make a move simply out of spite. He ended up settling for placing it on the desk. “You’ll find you can group a lot of these values together into different categories or themes.” </p>
<p>Vader reviewed the list in his head, looking for a pattern. “...group achievement and power with Mastery.” He began. “Commitment and duty with Authority. And intelligence and risk with Challenge.” </p>
<p>The boy made some notes. “And accuracy?” </p>
<p>“I am naturally accurate, though I suppose you could group it with intelligence.” </p>
<p>He made more notes. “That was quick.” </p>
<p>“I am intelligent, unlike you.” </p>
<p>The boy gave him an exasperated look before elaborating, “I am aware, My Lord, but I was just wondering why you chose the words you did...Mastery, Authority, and Challenge?” </p>
<p>“Easy.” Vader replied confidently. “I will be a Master of the Sith, one day. That requires achievement and power to obtain. If I am committed and dutiful, I will maintain Authority, and you cannot succeed in a challenge without intelligence and risk.” </p>
<p>The boy nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. Vader doubted he could be thinking anything of importance, but he found himself...curious, anyway. </p>
<p>Not enough to waste time on it. </p>
<p>“You know.” The boy said, leaning back in his seat. “There were other words you seemed to have a strong reaction to.” </p>
<p>“We will <em> not </em>talk about those!” He pointed threateningly at the boy. As was becoming oddly usual with this boy, he didn’t seem too concerned. </p>
<p>“Not today, no, our time is about up.” Really? Vader...hadn’t even noticed the time. Strange. The first session had felt like pulling teeth. “But I think I’d like to circle back to these core values in the future.” </p>
<p>“I am certain I gave you what you needed.” </p>
<p>The boy shrugged. “Maybe so. Maybe after a few sessions...you may feel differently.” </p>
<p>“I assure you, I will not.” Vader rolled his eyes. What an idiot. </p>
<p>The boy had that odd look on his face again, and Vader wondered once more what was going on in that empty brain of his… but the boy stood. “We can talk about it later. For now, that’s our time--” </p>
<p>He didn’t wait. He whirled and stormed out of the room without another word. </p>
<p>From behind him, he was pretty sure he heard the boy call, “See you next week Lord Vader!” </p>
<p>Urg. </p>
<p>Larry, Lucas, <em> whatever his name was, </em>really needed to find a new occupation and stop torturing him. </p>
<p>The thought made him pause. Perhaps that’s what he’d do next time he had a prisoner to interrogate: let the therapist bore them into telling him what he needed to know. </p>
<p>Now <em> that </em>was an idea he liked.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry for the late update! I had a bunch going on, including a double root canal on one tooth (long story, it wasn't fun, trust me). But here's another chapter, and though it's definitely setting up for things in the future, I hope you enjoyed! Thank you SO much for the enthusiasm!!! &lt;3<br/>Also I may have totally stolen this idea from my own therapist so...thanks for the story idea therapist! :P<br/>Love,<br/>LadyVader23</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. An Expanding Clientele</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Luke thought his clientele would slowly build over time. That’s what he’d been told to expect. In fact, the Dean of his department repeatedly told them that especially in the Empire where mental health was seen as a weakness, they’d be lucky to pay back their student loans. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Luke found that his schedule was growing almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>too </span>
  </em>
  <span>quickly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It all started the same afternoon as Vader’s second appointment. Luke was in his office studying up on literally any manual he could find that might help him with his particularly difficult client, when his door comm chimed. Without looking up, he turned it on. “Yes, how may I help you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh.” Came a nervous voice on the other end, prompting Luke to finally look at the image. He’d been expecting food delivery, or maybe a cleaning droid--but no. It was an officer. A captain, by the rank plate he wore. “Hi, uh...Mr. Lars...Lord Vader sent me to see you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke frowned, unsure he heard right. “Lord Vader </span>
  <em>
    <span>sent </span>
  </em>
  <span>you? To me?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, sir.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...Are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>sure </span>
  </em>
  <span>it was me he was sending you to? Could you possibly have misheard?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, he was very specific. He told me to go ‘see the idiot therapist.’” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke straightened up, turning off his databook and pushing it to the side. This was...most unexpected. Despite the insult, he’d still sent someone in need to him. Perhaps he was getting to Vader after all--?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He sent me here because I messed up.” The man was squirming uncomfortably.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ah. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe not. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He does realize therapy isn’t a punishment, doesn’t he?” Luke asked dryly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t believe so, no, sir.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sighed and ran a hand over his face. “Alright. Well, let’s see what we can do together, shall we?” And he pressed the button to open the door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Though he was annoyed to be used for </span>
  <em>
    <span>punishment purposes, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he decided to make the best of it. It turned out, the poor captain was under significant work-related stress. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And it all had to do with his primary client. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have no idea what it’s like,” the captain shuddered, “When he’s not on the bridge, we all function just fine. But the moment he steps in, everyone’s tense. If we make a single mistake, we’re bound to get strangled! I stopped bothering to learn people's names!!! I </span>
  <em>
    <span>swear </span>
  </em>
  <span>I’m good at my job, I just get so nervous when he’s around I make mistakes I don’t normally make!!!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The captain’s voice rose with every listed stress factor until he was practically yelling. Luke wrote notes as he talked, but there were so many issues the man listed, his notes ended up looking like: </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Afraid of Vader’s breathing?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Edge of nervous breakdown?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“At least two deaths by invisible strangulation on a good month?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>(This last one he circled numerous times and wrote in the margins</span>
  <em>
    <span> “How is this even a thing??? Surely he’s imagining things??? Or is this part of his magic???”)</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He ended up suggesting some basic calming exercises, and the captain set up another appointment to continue working on his anxiety and stress management. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The next day, when he opened up for business, he found another officer waiting for him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh hi,” He kicked at the floor nervously, not meeting his eyes. “Captain Riss recommended you...said you were great to talk to about…” he looked around nervously as though Lord Vader would suddenly appear out of thin air and start strangling him. “Work.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well. At least this was a legitimate recommendation. “Sure, come right on in…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Throughout the entire day, he had a steady stream of either walk-ins, or people looking to set up an appointment. It was mostly officers, though there were a few stormtroopers as well. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was all either issues stemming directly from Lord Vader himself, or the ship’s policies. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Several times, he had officers break down sobbing. Though he’d learned to suspect most military officers were hiding feelings behind a wall of trained indifference, to see men who’d survived countless battles sobbing because of their own superior officer…And on such a regular </span>
  <em>
    <span>occurrence… </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He spent his lunch break stocking up on all of the tissues the med center would let him have. Then, a few days later, when half of them were used up, he made arrangements to have a regular shipment sent to him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One day, Luke received a shipment from one of his friends from college, Digby. He saved the box until lunch when he’d be guaranteed to have time to open it, and when he did, he found a massive fluffy purple duck shoved into the tiny space. He pulled it out with one hand, and with the other found the note: “Figured you could use this with any children clients you might have!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m literally never going to use this on a star destroyer,” he muttered to himself, then realized he’d been assigned the position on the Executor so quickly, he hadn’t had a chance to tell his friends where he’d been assigned. Last they’d heard, he’d planned to eventually get a masters that specialized in family services.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well. He’d save it for later, he decided. For now, he’d need somewhere to put it that was out of the way-- </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But right at that moment, another panicked stormtrooper burst in, gasping as he tossed his helmet off. His face was bright red, and his hand was up at his throat, eyes wild as they met his. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You gotta help me!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was then that Luke noticed the bruises on his neck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Um, I think you need a medic--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“No!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>The trooper stormed over, and before Luke could say anything, grabbed the purple duck from the desk and held it in his arms. “I can’t handle this anymore!!!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, okay, we can talk…” Luke pushed his lunch to the side, hardly touched. “But that stuffed duck is for children--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I don’t care I NEED it!” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke held up his hands defensively. “Okay, okay, you can hold it while we talk…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After that confirmation where he got first-hand confirmation that yes, indeed, Vader strangled his staff regularly, he kept the purple duck on a chair in the corner in case anyone else decided they wanted to use it while they talked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Surprisingly, there were a few others. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the time he was preparing for Vader’s next session, he found he’d unintentionally gathered a lot more info on his client. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader was, apparently, not only dealing with some serious anger management issues, but...well. The list was growing. He was a perfectionist. He apparently didn’t know how to communicate those expectations. He reacted violently if he thought someone didn’t meet those standards. He apparently didn’t respect personal space (considering he’d almost pulled him over his desk with his weird magic, Luke wasn’t surprised). He never offered any praise. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was probably more. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke stared at the list the night before, a cup of caff on his desk, the purple duck in his lap, and sighed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Where to even </span>
  <em>
    <span>begin? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Especially when the man reacted explosively to any mention of his past? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You took him on, Skywalker,” he muttered to himself in an attempt to talk himself up. “You’re trained. You worked hard and got your degree. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>got this. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Beru always said you could melt the heart of the Emperor himself, so why not Darth Vader? You </span>
  <em>
    <span>got this.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Feeling marginally better, he dug into his work, prepping for his next interaction with the most feared man on the ship. </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>The idea to punish Captain Riss by sending him to the therapist was brilliant. One of Vader’s best ideas, he was sure of it. When the man returned to the bridge the next day, he seemed...well, not significantly more efficient, but better. There was still room to improve. He was no Piett, after all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But over the next few days, he started noticing multiple people around him acting...off. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but they seemed...calmer, somehow. Just marginally. For a Sith who fed off of fear, it was noticeable. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What has changed? </span>
  </em>
  <span>He mused, taking time to pay more attention to his surroundings. Everything looked the same. Procedures hadn’t changed. There was still a Rebellion to crush. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So. What was it? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Admiral.” He finally asked the day before his next dreaded torture session with the therapist, “Have you noticed a change in the officers?” And a few stormtroopers, though the behavior seemed to particularly affect the bridge crew. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Piett looked up from his datapad, casting a look over the bridge. “Yes, they do seem...calmer.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He considered for a moment. “I’m not sure. Would you like me to ask around?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe it was nothing. It had only been a few days. He was likely overreacting, but… “Do so and report to me as soon as you find out.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Later, while heading back to his quarters, he got his answer in the form of a message from the Admiral. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Much of the bridge crew has taken up therapy with Mr. Lars. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader stopped in his tracks, staring at the message on his comm. At first, he was confused--why would anyone willingly put themselves through that torture? Then, when he realized the boy had likely changed his tactics to sucker his staff in, he grew angry. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Angry enough that he began accidentally strangling a nearby stormtrooper. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s not the stormtroopers fault my therapist is a hack, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thought furiously, pulling his power away from the man who dropped to the ground, gasping for air. </span>
  <em>
    <span>If the therapist likes his boundaries so much, it is time that I establish the boundaries of my ship during our appointment tomorrow! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The next day, he entered his appointment with this thought in mind. He couldn’t yet kill the boy, not without causing another one to take his place and he’d have to go through the torture all over again, but he was intimidating. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>Darth Vader. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He’d make the boy fear him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He snarled the moment the blast doors opened, pointing at the seated therapist. This time, he felt a flash of fear from the boy, before it was suddenly controlled. He took satisfaction in that brief slip, though the boy’s expression didn’t change. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Perhaps the boy should have taken up Sabacc. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good morning, Lord Vader.” He greeted smoothly. “What have I done this time to incur your wrath?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Besides exist?!” He strode to his spot next to the port window, pointing at him to make his point. “You are ruining my bridge crew!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That caused the boy’s brows to shoot up in surprise. “Oh? How so?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“By giving them therapy that is actually helpful instead of torturing them like you do me!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I see.” He frowned. “While I can’t reveal confidential information about my other patients, I can say that I haven’t changed my methods.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then why are they acting like...like...</span>
  <em>
    <span>hippies?!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>A terrible thought occurred to him, and he took a threatening step forward. “If I find out that you are doing this to get back at me, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lars, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I swear I’ll--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>helping </span>
  </em>
  <span>my patients, Lord Vader.” The boy had the audacity to interrupt. There was fire in those blue eyes as he met his gaze, unflinching. “If that makes them better people, I will not apologize. I am doing </span>
  <em>
    <span>my job.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your job was to teach Captain Riss a lesson in failure!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will not disclose any information about our session, but I am not a tool for punishment--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are for me!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because a court ordered me to </span>
  <em>
    <span>help </span>
  </em>
  <span>you--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ridiculous! I need no help!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy gave him a long stare. Then, “So then why does it matter if anyone on your ship makes a mistake?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That is a stupid question.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Humor me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do not </span>
  <em>
    <span>humor </span>
  </em>
  <span>anyone!” But the boy just waited, expecting him to say it anyway. He considered refusing to respond completely, but then he’d be stuck in a glaring contest with the stupid therapist. If his time was going to be wasted anyway… “The Executor must be in top shape if we are to succeed against the Rebellion! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Happy?!” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy didn’t respond to that. Instead, he said, “It would seem that you </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>need help.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I did not mean </span>
  <em>
    <span>physically, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I obviously cannot fly a star destroyer on my own!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Most creatures in the universe need social interaction to survive. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Positive </span>
  </em>
  <span>social interaction. You are no different, Lord Vader.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am so!” The boy knew </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And why is that?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because I am a </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sith. </span>
  </em>
  <span>We do not need anyone except ourselves and the power at our disposal!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And this is your...magic?” The boy asked curiously. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader scoffed. “There is no such thing as </span>
  <em>
    <span>magic. </span>
  </em>
  <span>There is only the Force!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And that’s...what you used to pull the datapad out of my hands?” As if fearing he’d try it again, the boy’s hands tightened on his current datapad. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, though that is child’s play compared to the true power of the Force.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy wrote some notes down as though he’d said something particularly interesting. “And what, exactly, is the Force?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader’s anger...simmered. “Finally. You ask an important question.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I look forward to the answer.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>get smart with me, boy!” He pointed at him. Still, it wouldn’t stop him from giving the answer. “I am sure you have heard of the traitorous Jedi.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sort of.” The boy replied. “At least, I’ve heard rumors of them.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They are traitors, but they used a weak form of the Force.” When the boy just looked at him blankly, he added, “Jedi mind tricks? Lightsabers? Levitation? Surely you have heard these common stories.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I didn’t get to hear many rumors on Tatooine.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader scowled. “That would explain your lack of intelligence.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because I’m from the Outer Rim or Tatooine specifically?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tatooine. That planet is hell.” It continued to be the bane of his existence, too. He lost those droids there before the Death Star was blown up, after all… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t disagree with you there.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well. At least they could agree on something. “The Force is the energy field that binds all life together in the universe. There are other names for it. Magic is...crude, but technically not incorrect. There are individuals, such as myself, who are born with the ability to control it. The Jedi used a weaker form of it, while I, as a Sith, use it as it should be.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tried to read the boy’s expression, but it was as carefully neutral as ever. Though he did think he seemed a bit more interested than usual. “And how should it be used?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“To obtain power and control so that the galaxy may be secure.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m...afraid I’m not sure that explains it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader rolled his eyes. “Power is fueled by anger and hate. That is the only way to obtain true power.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Understanding lit in the boy’s blue eyes. Eye’s that were somehow familiar to him, though he couldn’t place why… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So is that why you chose to combine achievement and power with mastery?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader recalled their last session, and despite himself, was cautiously pleased that he’d made the connection. Perhaps there was some intelligence in the boy after all. “Yes.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you said you have a goal to be a master of the Sith?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“At least you have a decent memory.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That, and good note taking skills.” He tried for a smile, but when Vader didn’t laugh, it faded. “How do you become a master of the Sith?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“By killing my master.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I...see.” Vader didn’t miss the hesitation. “And who is your master?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader realized then, that he’d given away too much. He couldn’t exactly tell the therapist that his master was the Emperor, and that he’d basically said he’d have to eventually plan on killing the Emperor to achieve his goal. That was treason...though he didn’t necessarily have any plans to kill the Emperor any time soon, anyway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We are </span>
  <em>
    <span>done </span>
  </em>
  <span>with this subject. We were discussing how you are ruining the atmosphere on </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>ship.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He thought the therapist would push, but he didn’t. Instead he replied, “I am helping people improve their lives so they make less mistakes. Which, per our conversation last time, was also something important to you. Intelligence and accuracy, right?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader was...loathe to admit he was right. So instead he said nothing, only glared. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The words you chose last time...Mastery, Authority and Challenge. Those are all very important values to have. And I can see how they’re currently influencing your life. I’d like to examine a few other words, though.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not interested. Those are all I need.” He crossed his arms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, but you had some rather strong reactions to a few other words that I think are important to address.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I had a strong reaction because I do not wish to discuss them further.” He warned. Naturally, it went unheard. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I understand. But I think they might feed into how you...interact with your subordinates.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They do not.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...You reacted strongly to words that related to companionship of any type. Very strongly, in fact.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They are not </span>
  <em>
    <span>needed.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But you yourself even mentioned you have a master you don’t want to discuss that </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>a form of companionship.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I assure you, it is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He’d once thought so, but Palpatine had made it clear that was a ruse not long after he’d failed on Mustafar… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And why is that?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader opened his mouth...and shut it. The words wouldn’t come. How could he even </span>
  <em>
    <span>begin </span>
  </em>
  <span>to unravel that? More than that, he wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>supposed </span>
  </em>
  <span>to. What would this therapist know about it?! </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He turned away. “We are done with this conversation.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Our time isn’t--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>said, </span>
  </em>
  <span>we are done. I have other things to attend to.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll have to mark our session as incomplete--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will deal with it later.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We can discuss something else if you wish--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He began walking out of the room...then stopped. Turned, and reached out a hand towards the monstrosity sitting in a chair in the corner of the office, summoning it to his hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was...a giant, fluffy, stuffed duck. Colored some color he couldn’t identify, but he doubted was normal duck colors. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What...is this?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh. It’s...technically it’s meant for children, but it’s actually seen some use here so I’m keeping it out in case anyone wants to hold something while they talk--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked away from the duck to stare at the boy incredulously. “They are grown </span>
  <em>
    <span>men.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy looked almost defensive. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to hold something as a grown man.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He waited a few breaths, trying to find the words. “I beg to differ.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...Maybe you should--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>finish that sentence.” He tossed the stuffed duck at him, and he managed to catch it before it smacked him in the face. “It is ridiculous and unfit to be aboard my ship.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He frowned. “With all due respect, Lord Vader, I will run my therapy the way I wish.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s a stupid way.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So you’ve said. Repeatedly.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader stared at the boy, then at the duck in his hands, and shook his head. “I will not send people to you for punishment. But you will not turn my crew into hippies.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>An odd look came over his face. “...Hippies?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The military is no place for them, am I understood?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah...I think so?” His confusion radiated in the Force, telling him otherwise. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well. If he turned his crew into hippies, it just gave him a good excuse to kill him. “Good.” He said, then turned and stormed out. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The duck returns!!!! I explained this in my last crack story, but Luke references not knowing what a duck is in the New Hope novelization, so I head canon that when he finds out what they are, he likes them. It will only be a thing in crack stories, but...oh well. Therapy duck for the win!!! <br/>This therapy session didn't go quite as planned, but it's Darth Vader. He's got enough issues to derail any basic therapy session. Hopefully, his next one will be more successful. But at least Luke got some good info about the Force and the Sith! That should explain a lot, actually. <br/>Leave some love! <br/>Love,<br/>LadyVader23</p>
<p>Also I don't usually have songs for crack stories, but I listened to the Little Big Planet soundtrack while writing this. Idk. The music just seemed to fit.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. FAST</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Luke never imagined his clientele would grow so much so quickly, but he completely understood why. It was as if the entire ship needed some kind of therapy. 99% of them needed therapy because of the immense stress put upon them not only by the Empire, but by Lord Vader specifically. Even without having to deal with the Dark Lord, he was basically having to deal with him in some form or another. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was becoming...difficult to manage his own emotions. With each session that focused solely on stress caused by Darth Vader, Luke’s own stress escalated. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One afternoon, one of the officers who’d signed up for an appointment never showed. Luke attempted to call the officer’s comm, but found it to be disconnected. He later found out, from another new client who happened to be the officer’s best friend, that Lord Vader had killed the officer for reporting the wrong coordinates of a Rebel base. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hearing that news suddenly made his task seem far more important, not just for Vader’s health, but for his own. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He knew he needed to do something for his own mental health when a stormtrooper came in sobbing and when he told him that he’d just received news that his mother had died of old age, Luke accidentally let out a sigh of relief and said, “Thank the stars, something </span>
  <em>
    <span>normal--”</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The stormtrooper gave him an odd look through his tears. “E-excuse me?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke immediately flushed bright red, realizing what he’d just done and cursing himself for being so immensely out of control. “I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>so, so sorry, </span>
  </em>
  <span>that’s not what I meant at all--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Thankfully, the stormtrooper seemed to know what he meant without him explaining. Not that he could without violating patient confidentiality, but, well...the man worked on the Executor under the same guy as everyone else. They were able to finish their session and set up another one, but that didn’t mean Luke didn’t feel like a horrible person for his slip. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was time to take control of the situation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke blocked out two hours on his schedule to dedicate time to figuring out the problem. It was far more difficult to do, considering he was managing everything by himself. People kept asking him for sessions, and he had to move his private hours at least twice before it actually happened. When the time came, he worried he’d be interrupted by an emergency anyway, and he turned out the lights in his office, deciding to work by the light of his datapads alone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The most important thing to do when handling a difficult situation was to focus on what he had the power to control instead of focusing on the overwhelming parts he couldn’t do anything about. He couldn’t force Vader to want to change his ways, and even if Vader did decide to do so, it would take time, time Luke’s nerves didn’t have. He couldn’t change the fact that Vader had a court order for a specific number of sessions...but perhaps he could change his role in that order. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So he called his boss. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good afternoon, Mr. Lars.” Greeted a mini-holo of an older graying man. He had a kind expression, and his voice was calm, the perfect sound of an experienced therapist. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey Mr. Aldel.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How is your first post?” Even though there was no change in Mr. Aldel’s expression or tone, Luke suspected he’d almost been expecting this call. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well...I have a busy schedule…” Luke began, unsure of how to start. He didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>to leave, per se. He enjoyed helping others, and for the most part it seemed he was making a difference in the lives of the officers working aboard the ship. Vader was just...difficult. Perhaps more so than he could handle. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sighed. “I don’t know if I’m experienced enough to help Lord Vader. I was thinking...there’s enough business on this ship that two therapists could work here. Maybe a more experienced therapist can focus on Lord Vader while I handle other less complicated clients. I could use the experience to learn from the more experienced therapist so that maybe one day, in the future, I could again attempt to handle someone so...complicated.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mr. Aldel visibly hesitated, obviously searching for the right words. “Luke...I’m going to be honest, here. You know the other therapists already said no to taking him on.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke was afraid of this. “I know.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Their answer won’t change. Believe it or not, I’ve tried...but the only way they’ll take it is if Lord Vader fires you, or--” he cut himself off, looking highly uncomfortable. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke didn’t need to ask why. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I could possibly try to get another therapist to handle your other clientele, but I doubt Lord Vader will approve that assignment. He...left us some rather nasty threats when we sent your file to him to approve.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course he did. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Would you like me to attempt it?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke let out a sigh. “No. I don’t want anyone to get in trouble.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>or hurt, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he mentally added, “But...maybe you could send me some material that might help me with this?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course. Anything you need.” Luke didn’t fail to notice Mr. Aldel’s smile looked more relieved than anything else. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke got off the call, staring at his schedule. Admittedly, it...was starting to get difficult to put a positive spin on the whole situation. He wondered what Mr. Aldel would say if he called him back and asked him if he’d expected him to be dead by now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He already knew the answer to that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>At least I’ll get some pointers on what to do and where to go? </span>
  </em>
  <span>He thought as he began attempting to re-organize his schedule...then paused. Squinted at the screen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And got up to go find Piett. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had to move quickly. It was starting to become common where he’d be stopped in the hall by someone wanting to talk to him about scheduling a session. While he again wanted to help, he couldn’t truly help if he was overwhelmed. And Piett was the answer to solving at least a large chunk of the problem. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He found him where he expected him to be--on the bridge. Not that Luke entered it himself. He wasn’t authorized, and he was certain that if Lord Vader found out, there’d be hell to pay. He might have some insurance against getting killed, but he could still be punished. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And he really didn’t want to find out what Lord Vader considered to be adequate punishment first hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But thankfully Captain Riss spotted him, and when he explained he needed to talk to the Admiral, agreed to help. Soon Piett was exiting the bridge with a steaming cup of caff in one hand, looking a bit surprised to see him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good afternoon, Mr. Lars. What brings you to this side of the ship?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke didn’t miss the apprehension in that gaze, as though the Admiral expected him to deliver terrible news that likely had to do with everyone’s favorite commanding officer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s nothing bad--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then why send Captain Riss to interrupt me?” But the Admiral didn’t look mad, but instead relieved that he hadn’t come with ill tidings. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Not yet, anyway. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Luke thought with a grimace. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well...you’re in charge of the functions on this ship, right?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Piett’s expression began to turn amused, though the answering smile was a bit...twitchy. Luke couldn’t help but notice just how exhausted he looked… “Last I checked, yes.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well. I’m...getting a bit overwhelmed with both delivering therapy sessions and keeping track of the administrative parts of running an office...I was wondering if I could get a droid I could use as a secretary?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For some reason, Piett just looked even more amused, as though he’d said something funny. “Mr. Lars. You do realize you could have placed a formal request in my inbox for approval?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And if you absolutely needed to talk to me about this, you could have called me. I’m sure you have my comm number somewhere.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even though he’d spent time at a military school, it always seemed as though he couldn’t ever get rid of his farm boy nature. It was like it was ingrained in his blood, somehow. Piett already thought he was too young. Perhaps now he’d also add hillbilly to that list--</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Be that as it may, I am pleased you came to see me anyway.” Piett finished, surprising Luke. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait, really?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” He nodded towards the bridge door. “Your work has had positive results so far...maybe not with Lord Vader, but with the rest of the crew. I just received the newest productivity report and there’s been quite a dramatic increase.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke’s jaw dropped. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Surely you expected those results?” Piett asked, smiling that twitchy smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I expected people to be happier but...I mean I guess it makes sense...that’s awesome news!” Luke finally broke out into a grin. Just that one bit of news seemed to lift a weight off the situation. “Has Lord Vader seen it?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I sent it to him, though I’m not sure if he’s looked at it or made the connection.” Piett shrugged. “Either way, since results have been moving in a positive direction, I’m sure I can spare one of our droids for your needs...though it might need some reprograming.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, don’t worry about that, I can handle it.” He’d need to get up earlier than usual to make that work, but he was getting what he needed and it had been a while since he’d had a chance to do anything mechanical. Something like this was easy, and the results would be better if he just did it himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Piett nodded. “Well if you need anything else...perhaps try to follow correct protocol?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’ll </span>
  <em>
    <span>try.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Luke winked before growing serious. “Though if you ever wish to...you know...drop by and talk...I’ll make room on my schedule for you, Admiral.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Admiral sighed, lifted his caff cup...and took a really long time to drink from it. To the point where Luke wondered if it was safe to gulp down that much hot caff in one go. When he finished, he simply said, “I’m quite fine, Mr. Lars. But thank you for the offer.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke was still staring at the now empty caff cup, his lips pinching together in concern. But the only person he could force into therapy was Lord Vader, and he liked the Admiral so… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know where I’m at if you change your mind.” Was all he said. </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Vader stared in utter disbelief at the officer, certain he’d misheard him. He still had Lieutenant Commander Kal struggling for air in his grip. He barely noticed the man trying to free himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Repeat that again, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Captain?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He said, his voice low and dangerous, promising violence if the man dared to repeat…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The captain gulped nervously, but his mouth was set in a hard, determined line. “I said, your feelings over what Commander Lieutenant Kal’s failure are valid, but I’d appreciate it if you communicated those feelings in a more productive manner. Strangling someone while I’m trying to work is triggering and may affect my productivity.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader felt his fury rise to a boiling point. He was seconds away from exploding. And yet he could only stare at the captain. The entire bridge was dead silent, and he was aware that every eye was on them. People had stopped breathing, waiting for his reaction. Piett stood frozen in the pit, staring at the captain like he was insane. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Because he was. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And yet Vader didn’t make a move to kill him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not because he didn’t want to. Oh, he definitely did. But because, in the back of his mind, he remembered that he’d sent this captain to a certain boy as punishment…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did the </span>
  <em>
    <span>therapist </span>
  </em>
  <span>put you up to this?!” He seethed. By this point, the Lieutenant Commander was dead, hanging limply in his grasp. He paid the body no mind, even as the captain’s eyes kept darting to it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is my decision, My Lord. Mr. Lars didn’t ask me to do anything.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But those words sound </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly </span>
  </em>
  <span>like something that idiot would say!” Vader tossed the body aside. It landed against the wall with a crash, but no one moved to clean it up. They were too transfixed on the utter insubordination unfolding before them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instead of being afraid...no, </span>
  <em>
    <span>despite </span>
  </em>
  <span>being terrified, the captain’s expression hardened. “Mr. Lars has nothing to do with this. I’m simply speaking up for creating a productive environment for me and my crewmates.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Kill him. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He normally would. And yet, even though he was looking straight at the captain, it was the stupid therapist’s face he was seeing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He whirled, and without another word, strode off, anger building with each step. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was it. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>done. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He’d deal with whatever therapist got sent afterwards, but he couldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>handle </span>
  </em>
  <span>this boy any longer--</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t make it far before Piett was at his side, datapad in hand. “My Lord, did you happen to see--?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>in the mood, Admiral.” Vader snarled. With each step, he imagined exactly how he was going to kill this boy--</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I really think you should look at the most recent productivity report, My Lord.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader stopped abruptly, resisting the urge to lash out at his best employee. Part of the reason he liked Piett so much was that he didn’t get in his way over trivial things, so if he was pushing a report he rarely looked at while he was on his way to murder the therapist, it was likely for good reason. What that reason could be, he couldn’t imagine, but he snatched the datapad from the Admiral’s hands anyway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He scanned through it once. Twice. On the third, he looked back at Piett. “This </span>
  <em>
    <span>must </span>
  </em>
  <span>be incorrect.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I had it triple checked, My Lord.” Piett replied with that same calm, no-nonsense demeanor that he’d grown to rely on. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then someone </span>
  <em>
    <span>fudged </span>
  </em>
  <span>it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“On the third time, I ran the report myself. The numbers are accurate.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader looked back at the productivity report. The report was always adequate, but this was well above average. Possibly the highest numbers he’d ever had aboard his ship. “You are not about to suggest the therapist had anything to do with this, are you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not.” Vader was about to relax and resume his objective when Piett tapped the screen and a survey popped up. “The </span>
  <em>
    <span>crew </span>
  </em>
  <span>is.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d always assumed the survey report was stupid--it still was. Every month, the crew was surveyed for their opinion on top contributing factors to why the reports came out the way they did. There were a bunch of the standard reasons available to choose from, and he assumed there was a write in option, but no one, to his knowledge, had ever used it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The overwhelming majority wrote in some variation of “Therapy helped manage stress” or “looking forward to seeing a therapist” on this month's survey. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That...was a problem. At least, if he wanted to kill the boy. If this was how the majority of his crew felt, killing him would likely cause a mutiny. He could of course deal with that, but if the incident on Ryloth had forced him to deal with a therapist, he could only imagine how </span>
  <em>
    <span>Darth Vader Kills His Crew After Murdering His Therapist </span>
  </em>
  <span>would look on the holonet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could end up in therapy for the rest of his life. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He scowled, suddenly no longer in the mood to see anyone, as he handed the datapad back to Piett. “I will be in my chambers. See that </span>
  <em>
    <span>no one</span>
  </em>
  <span> disturbs me.”   </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was aware that he likely looked to be sulking, but he didn’t care. He’d fix his damaged reputation later. Right now, he needed to channel his rage into the Dark Side of the Force to avoid killing his ship's favorite person. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Stupid therapist. Stupid crew. Stupid galaxy. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He thought all the way to his meditation pod. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Unfortunately, the next morning he was obligated to meet with the very boy who’d become his least favorite person. This time, he showed up slightly early, hoping to get it over with so he could continue trying to forget about the effect the boy was having on his crew. He didn’t bother to wait in the waiting room. He used the Force to open the blast doors and step into the boy’s office. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Where the boy was working on a droid. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stopped, the furious words he’d practiced all night flying out of his head. Out of all the things he’d expected the boy to do, </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>wasn’t one of them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy, upon him entering, muttered a curse in surprise, the hydrospanner falling out of his hand, off the table and onto the floor. “Sorry,” The boy was flushing red. It only made him look younger. “I didn’t mean--I didn’t realize you’d be here so early…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader stared at the boy, the anger...seeping into something dull, replaced instead by longing and...and…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Regret? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I did not realize you had mechanical skills.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy had come around the desk to pick up the fallen tool. “Yeah, I used to work on machines all the time. Then I went to school and, well, here I am.” He straightened, turning the tool over in his hands. Hand that, now that Vader looked, were calloused and scarred. Nothing like the hands of someone who’d grown up sheltered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you are programming the droid to do what, exactly?” Vader narrowed his eyes. “You had better not be making it into a therapy droid--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy laughed. “No, just a receptionist droid.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh. Well, that didn’t sound so bad. “Perhaps you could program it to leave me alone when I am forced to come.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That got another laugh out of the boy as he moved the droid from his desk. For some reason, that laugh only pushed him further into the strange, melancholy mood. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>But why? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He frowned, watching the boy as he cleaned his workspace. “I’ll see what I can do. Droids sometimes have a mind of their own.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know.” The words were out before he could stop them, and they didn’t go unnoticed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?” He’d finished cleaning his space and was sitting down, pulling the datapad out. “Do you like mechanics?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shouldn’t answer. He was probably playing right into the boy’s conspiratorial hands. He was his enemy, he didn’t deserve--</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do. I built my first droid from scratch by the time I was nine.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy’s eyes lit up. “Really? What kind of droid?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He should keep his mouth shut. And yet...he so rarely got to talk mechanics with anyone these days. It was one of the few subjects that, had anyone bothered to bring it up with him, he’d start and never stop. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was a protocol droid. I named him C-3PO.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh. Why a protocol droid?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader hesitated. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because I wanted companionship.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The words were ashes in his mouth, and he immediately hated himself for saying it. What had </span>
  <em>
    <span>possessed </span>
  </em>
  <span>him like this?! He’d come in here ready to give the therapist a piece of his mind for what he’d done to his crew, and instead he was talking about his past all because the boy had been working on a droid. But there was </span>
  <em>
    <span>something </span>
  </em>
  <span>about seeing the boy work that had struck him as familiar, and even though he knew he shouldn’t talk about his past, that it would do no good to do so, for some reason he felt like he was edging closer to some hidden truth by doing so. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Were you a particularly lonely child?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I had </span>
  <em>
    <span>friends.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>The words were harsh, defensive. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t assume you didn’t.” The boy, as always, was calm, though he was attempting to hide the obvious curiosity that had been sparked by the droid discussion. He wasn’t very successful. “You can have friends and still be lonely. Believe me, I know.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What could you </span>
  <em>
    <span>possibly </span>
  </em>
  <span>know?!” Vader snapped. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shrugged. “Well I lived on a moisture farm on Tatooine growing up. My closest friend was half a day’s speeder ride away.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tatooine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader frowned, that melancholy feeling strengthening. He wasn’t sure why. Tatooine might have been a hellhole, but there were plenty of people who lived there or at least visited. The boy being from there shouldn’t have had any significance. In fact, he’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>known </span>
  </em>
  <span>that. The boy told him as much last session, but for whatever reason, the information felt different somehow.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I had friends.” Vader repeated, less harshly this time. “They were…” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Slaves, like me. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Busy.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy frowned. “Did you live on a planet that gives children more responsibility?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader crossed his arms to hide his clenched fists. “You could say that.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. “So do you still work on mechanics?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were back to an easy topic. Vader thanked the Force for it. “Yes, though I rarely have time to do it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you like to work on?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If therapy was more like this, he thought he might sort of grow to like it. Sort of. “Ships, mostly.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy’s expression brightened further, his presence in the Force...mysteriously shining along with it. “What kinds of ships?” There was genuine interest in his voice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Usually I work on improvements to my TIE Advanced. If it gets damaged, I fix it.” He paused. “But if I am back on Mustafar and have time, I have a private collection I work on.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that where your home is?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He...hadn’t realized he’d dropped another personal detail. But, he supposed it wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>private. There were plenty in the military who were aware he owned a castle there. “Yes.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Isn’t that a volcanic world?” He was doing something on his datapad. Confirming it, likely. “Wow. A </span>
  <em>
    <span>heavily active </span>
  </em>
  <span>volcanic world. Are you from there?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader clenched his teeth. The melancholy feeling was disappearing. “In a sense.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He should stop answering. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He answered. “I was not physically born there. I was...remade there.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy frowned. “Remade? What does that--?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will not speak more of it!” He snapped, pointing at him. “You will </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>ask me again!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The curiosity faded, the boy’s presence dimming again. “Okay. We don’t have to talk about anything you’re not comfortable with.” He wrote something down on his datapad and then asked, “What happened to C-3PO?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader frowned. He’d...wondered, of course. Not as much as he wondered about where Artoo had gone after...after. He assumed they were still together somewhere. Perhaps with Kenobi. Perhaps in the care of someone else, their memories wiped…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I lost them.” He replied. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Them?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For some reason, he didn’t want to talk about Artoo. Threepio had been his friend, but Artoo had been one of his closest companions. He’d had to be, given that they’d gone into battle together countless times. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So he only replied, “Yes.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...Okay, then.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As the boy wrote something down, probably about his vagueness over having multiple important droids in his life, Vader decided now was the best time to talk about what he’d originally come to say. “You have turned my entire crew into hippies and I do not appreciate it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The same odd look from before passed over his face. “I’m...afraid I don’t know what that means, Lord Vader.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Of course he didn’t. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader rolled his eyes. “Tatooine did you no favors in terms of education.” Before the boy could respond, he continued, “Hippies are like…They’re like </span>
  <em>
    <span>you.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Like me?” The boy frowned. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, except they usually dress far less professional. They’re all about </span>
  <em>
    <span>peace </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>love </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>harmony.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t think I’ve ever brought any of that up in our sessions--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not </span>
  <em>
    <span>mine, </span>
  </em>
  <span>because obviously I would not let you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Obviously.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But you do it in your other sessions with my crew, and they are starting to </span>
  <em>
    <span>act on it.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy stared. “They’re...dressing less professionally…?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“No.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> At least, not that he’d seen. “They are preaching about feelings. Yesterday I had a captain try to stop me from dealing punishment because he felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>triggered.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.” The boy looked like he was trying to find the right words to say. “Lord Vader...I don’t think that’s him being a </span>
  <em>
    <span>hippie. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I think that’s just them expressing that they’d like a safe workplace environment--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is the </span>
  <em>
    <span>military, </span>
  </em>
  <span>nothing about it is safe!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I...understand that. But it sounds like the captain…” another hesitation. “It sounds like the captain trusts you enough to express his feelings.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You and I both know that is not the case!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy blew out a breath. “Maybe, maybe not. I’m simply offering an alternative explanation for his behavior. As his commanding officer, how does it make you feel when he expresses...concern over how you’ve handled a problem?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is the </span>
  <em>
    <span>military. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I shouldn’t have to feel anything! I have no reason to worry about anyone’s feelings!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe not...but if your subordinates feel valued, perhaps their morale will improve, which will help them perform up to your satisfaction.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader glowered at the boy, wishing he could see his expression beyond the mask. If he could, the boy would certainly feel more fear than what he currently felt. Because yes, there was some fear there. Buried deep. But it had no effect on his demanor or on the idiotic words leaving his mouth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And he didn’t stop there. “Lord Vader, I’m going to send you a handout on a skill I’d like for us to work on.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What </span>
  <em>
    <span>skill?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Vader demanded. “I need to skills from you!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe not. But I’d like us to try anyway.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The urge to strangle the boy was back. But...again, that survey and report floating to the forefront of his mind, taunting him. If he killed the boy, he’d only cause bigger problems… “What is it?!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s a confrontation skill.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My confrontation skills are optimal and effective.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t miss that the boy didn’t comment on that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s called FAST.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader frowned. “FAST?” He </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>fast. That was the point of why he punished people the way he did. It got him the fastest results. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. It represents four different values to employ when you’re confronting someone about something that’s displeased you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This was ridiculous. But…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He glanced to the side where the boy had placed the droid. It sat in the corner next to the hideous giant duck, deactivated. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d...humor him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he didn’t stop him, the boy explained, ticking his fingers with each value he listed. “It stands for being Fair, making no Apologies, Sticking to your values, and being Truthful.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader ran it in his mind. “That is a terrible acronym.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, well, I didn’t make it up. But it does work. And to prove it, between now and our next session, I’d like for you to just focus on the first value.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He snorted. “Fairness?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. That includes being fair to others and yourself. I want you to try to focus on validating feelings and perspectives on </span>
  <em>
    <span>both </span>
  </em>
  <span>sides.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Life is not fair. It is therefore a stupid value.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The therapist let out a small but just barely noticeable sigh. Perhaps he got to the boy more than he let on. The thought made him grin. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Good. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Could you at least try to give it an honest effort?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He scoffed, about to say no...when again, his eyes caught the droid in the corner, and the words died on his lips. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Why? Why had the boy and his droid affected him this way? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...I will consider it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy answered with a grin that could light up a sun. And that, too, made him feel…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Longing. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Regret. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And he spent the rest of his day wondering why. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I used yet another thing from my own therapy session! I figured if anyone needed FAST, it was Vader. Dude has enough conflict in his life, he needs to learn how to manage it better LOL. <br/>Ahhhh I love my sweet sunshine boy Luke. He deserves nicer clients than Darth Vader, but he's trying his best! And look, Vader ACTUALLY GAVE HIM SOME INFO on his past! Let's hope that continues, yes? <br/>Leave some love! <br/>Love,<br/>Lady Vader</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The Breakthrough</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Fairness. Darth Vader was anything but fair, because </span>
  <em>
    <span>life </span>
  </em>
  <span>had never been fair to him. Or anyone else, for that matter. It seemed everyone was miserable on some level because of the hand life dealt them, and sometimes he wondered what the point of it all was. And if there was no point to life, then perhaps he was giving people a mercy when he ended their pathetic lives. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At least, that’s what he told himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still. When he thought about ignoring the boy’s request, his mind brought up the memory of the boy and his droid. He had no idea why. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen plenty of mechanics work on droids before. But there was something about the boy...the way he looked when he did it. It...stirred something, something he’d wanted to forget about but couldn’t…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was something about him--something he’d failed to see before in his rush to attempt to control the therapy situation. Was it his abnormally calm demeanor? The way he refused to flinch or outwardly react when he was threatened? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well. That was strange enough, but he doubted that was the reason why he was bothered so much. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After more hours of contemplation than Vader would care to admit, the answer came to him in the middle of the night cycle. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was the boy’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>appearance. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The color of his hair. Vader knew it to be blonde just like billions of other people in the galaxy, but it was the way it fell across his forehead, the way it curled just barely at the ends. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His eyes. Again, Vader couldn’t actually see the color, but the boy’s military profile said they were blue. But it was the shape of them that struck him as familiar, especially when his brow furrowed over them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The angles of his face. The cleft in his chin. The shape of his nose...the damn innocent </span>
  <em>
    <span>smile. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And the way he’d been focusing on that droid, the way his hands moved that spoke of years of experience, perhaps even natural talent…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And yet knowing it was the boy’s appearance that was bothering him so much didn’t explain </span>
  <em>
    <span>why. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It made him curious enough to pull out the boy’s military profile (where he confirmed the color of his eyes) and look into it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And for whatever reason, the boy’s name caught his attention. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke Lars. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t unfamiliar, though he didn’t care to bother remembering it. And yet now…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lars. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Why was that name familiar? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was on the very edge of his mind, as if he were close to the answer but something were blocking it. He attempted to meditate past whatever block was there, but to no avail. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He couldn’t find the answer himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he knew how to get the answer. </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Luke frowned at the completed droid. C-Y-L-2 was the manufactured name. It was humanoid, and he’d programmed everything correctly, and yet when he turned it on, there was something...off about the personality. At least, off for a droid that was meant to be a therapist receptionist, because when it looked at the schedule for the upcoming day, it shook its head, made a concerned noise, and said, “Darth Vader is our first appointment today? Really? Are you sure? I could pretend we closed for the day if that would make him go away.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke honestly wasn’t sure if he’d messed up on the personality, or if accessing the holonet information on Darth Vader just scared the droid anyway. He pulled up his schematics, looking for where he might have gone wrong as he answered. “No, Lord Vader is our primary patient. You should have access to the court order in your files.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do, but I believe you should attempt to convince the court to change their minds or we will both be dead by the end of this.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke...couldn’t completely disagree. “I already tried to switch assignments. It’s not going to happen, Cyl.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cyl made another noise that sounded like a </span>
  <em>
    <span>humph </span>
  </em>
  <span>before asking, “Are all of our other patients murderers too? Should I keep a weapon in case one of them tries to kill us?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Everything looked correct...perhaps it was displeasure at finding out Darth Vader was a patient that was making the droid react the way it did. Perhaps he should put up a sign that read “DROID IN TRAINING, please excuse and report any odd behaviors.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, as far as I know they’re no more killers than most soldiers.” And even then, most of his clientele were in positions where it was technically possible that they’d only been trained to kill, and hadn’t yet had the opportunity. “Besides, I’m a therapist. How would it look if my receptionist had a gun at the front desk?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cyl considered the question, likely searching the protocols he’d installed for an appropriate answer. “I suppose that would not do. But don’t blame me if you get chopped into little pieces, Mr. Lars.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke almost corrected the droid...it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>his, </span>
  </em>
  <span>after all. If anyone would call him Luke Skywalker on this ship, it would be his own droid. But before he could, the doors swished open and in walked Darth Vader. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right on time.” Cyl said, wheeling over to Darth Vader with a datapad. “You are even five minutes early. Congratulations.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lord Vader stared at the droid, then looked to him. “You finished.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah...not sure how I feel about its personality, though.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My personality is </span>
  <em>
    <span>perfect.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Cyl objected, then handed Vader the datapad. “Sign in, please.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do not need to sign in. You are well aware of who I am.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, but it is protocol--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s fine, Cyl.” Luke interrupted. “Lord Vader can be the exception to the rule.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Rule breaking already.” Cyl shook its head, but nonetheless took the datapad back and rolled back to the reception desk. “Might as well cancel all of your appointments today and go on holiday.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That won’t be necessary.” Luke frowned, but shook his head. Perhaps he’d need to attempt to redo the personality circuits from scratch. “Anyway. Come in. Sorry for the awkward greeting.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>awkward.” Cyl muttered, and this time both Luke and Lord Vader ignored it as they headed into the office. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The moment the doors were closed, Vader announced, “Surprisingly, I am quite eager to speak with you, Mr. Lars.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke paused on his way to his desk. “That </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>a surprise.” He said, somewhat suspiciously, “As is you calling me by my name.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>My legal name for now, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he added in his head. He’d planned to submit the name change application tonight when he’d finished for the day, but it had taken him weeks to get Vader to call him by his name, he couldn’t imagine how long it would take him to get him to change it again. Maybe he’d hold off. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have my reasons.” Was Vader’s cryptic answer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well. He could revisit that in a moment. He sat down, pulling out his datapad. He knew better by this point than to offer Vader the seat in front of him. “So are you eager to see me because you practiced FAST and had success?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, no, that did not last more than one conversation. I killed an officer just yesterday for his idiocy.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke withheld a sigh. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, so why did you wish to speak to me?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but “Because there is something familiar about you, Lars.” Was not it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He raised his brows. “I’m certain we haven’t run across each other before I took a job here.” There was no way he’d forget meeting someone like Darth Vader, that was for sure. He was in every way unforgettable. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, but for some reason you are familiar and I do not know why.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was...odd. “Maybe I look like someone else you know?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I considered that, but no.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is...this a Force thing?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Somehow, he could practically feel Vader’s annoyance. “I assure you, it is not.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke still didn’t quite know what to do with the magic powers aspect of Vader’s profile, so he was pleased to hear that. “Well...why now? What triggered this reaction?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader stared at him, like he usually did when he thought he’d asked a stupid question. Luke was therefore fully prepared to not get an answer, but suddenly Vader pointed at him. “I will entertain your idiotic questioning for now. Your...familiarity is bothering me and interrupting my work, so if it means that we figure out why, I will deal with it. But do </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>take it too far.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Another surprise. Luke struggled to keep the emotion off his face. “Duly noted.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Satisfied, Vader continued. “It was initially seeing you working on that droid.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wrong question. When Vader answered, the modulated voice was dripping with sarcasm. “If I knew that, I would not be entertaining twenty questions.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But if we’re to figure this out, I need more than that to go off of.” Luke frowned. “Perhaps it might have something to do with our shared interest in droids?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I...considered that.” Vader said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then perhaps that’s where we should start.” Luke leaned forward. “You said you built your droid from scratch so that you wouldn’t feel lonely. When I questioned you about it, you said you had friends.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The room suddenly felt cold enough that Luke wished he’d brought a jacket in. Vader didn’t answer for a long time. His hands clenched and unclenched repeatedly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Everything is...confidential, correct?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“....You will </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>write this information down.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A weird request, but if it got the man to finally talk… “Okay.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, Vader hesitated. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then, finally… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was born a slave on Tatooine.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> The words were strangled and imbued with anger. For a moment, Luke stopped breathing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That...that was </span>
  <em>
    <span>quite </span>
  </em>
  <span>the revelation. He didn’t even know where to </span>
  <em>
    <span>begin </span>
  </em>
  <span>with a statement like that. Already, that one statement alone explained a lot of Vader’s reactions to things, and probably influenced quite a bit of who he was as a person. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A </span>
  <em>
    <span>slave… </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Thankfully his voice remained calm as he asked, “How long?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nine years. I...lived with my mother.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Were you--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>wish to discuss my slavery!” Vader pointed at him, and there was </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely </span>
  </em>
  <span>a threat in his voice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was such a major traumatic life event, Luke </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew </span>
  </em>
  <span>it needed to be addressed...but something in him told him this was a dangerous topic and he needed to back off. So, reluctantly, he instead said, “Well you’re from Tatooine. Perhaps you feel a shared connection because we’re from the same planet?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Truth be told, it was also hard to imagine someone like Vader being from the same planet as him. He tried to imagine bumping into him at Tosche Station and the image was so weird he immediately dispelled it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That...may be possible.” From the tone of his voice, Luke was certain that wasn’t a good familiarity. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where on Tatooine are you from?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mos Espa.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke’s interest perked further, but he was cautious as he said, “Where the podraces are held?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They are no longer supposed to be.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He smiled sheepishly. “The key words there are supposed</span>
  <em>
    <span> to.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader crossed his arms. “I have a hard time picturing you at a pod race. You are too...your personality does not match.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve never been exactly because of that.” Though he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to… “I’ve never even been to Mos Espa, though my grandmother was from there.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do not care.” Vader waved it off, but Luke had made another connection…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Actually, my grandmother was a slave, too.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As I said, I do not care.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could again somehow feel Vader’s annoyance, but his mind wouldn’t leave the woman whose headstone he’d often looked at when he was bored and had nothing to do. It was the only physical connection he’d had with his father. His uncle, after all, was only his uncle by adoption, not by blood. The only person who’d been related to his father was the woman who was buried next to Uncle Owen’s father near the main house. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tell me about your mother.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Again, the temperature plunged, and Luke shivered. But after a long pause, Vader haltingly said, “She...was perfect. She was beautiful. She did not deserve the life of a slave, but she was perhaps foolishly kind anyway. She did her best to give me a life resembling something normal. Sometimes she was successful. I...I was taken from her to study to become...I was freed and taken from her.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yet again, Luke was struck by how much trauma there was to unpack in those sentences, but before he could circle back, Vader continued, “She was later bought and freed by someone who had fallen in love with her. They married, but he failed to protect her. The last time I saw her, she…” He trailed off. And this time, he didn’t continue. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke considered the story. It was a similar one to the romance his grandmother shared with Uncle Owen’s father. Maybe it was more common on Tatooine to fall in love with a slave than he thought. There were unfortunately way too many slaves, especially in the larger cities…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What was her name? Maybe I know...well, at least her family.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I doubt it.” Vader paused, as if thinking about something. “I do not even remember the family she married into.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess she didn’t take their last name?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a hesitation. “I do not believe so. When...when she died, she was buried as Shmi Skywalker still…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke’s entire body tensed, and it was suddenly difficult to breathe.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“What </span>
  </em>
  <span>did you say her name was?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will not repeat myself.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shmi Skywalker. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The name he’d grown up staring at on a daily basis. The name who received nothing but high opinions from his aunt and uncle. The name of the woman who’d given birth to his father…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Skywalker. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His </span>
  <em>
    <span>father. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did...do you have siblings?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Surely, she had to have had more children--</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. Not that I am related to.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a struggle to keep his face neutral. Everything he’d learned about staying impartial and calm was being used in that moment just to keep it up. It would </span>
  <em>
    <span>not be professional to--</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But then again, when did most therapists find out in the middle of a therapy session that their client was none other than their supposed dead father? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that their father was none other than </span>
  <em>
    <span>Darth Vader?! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He...didn’t even know what to think. He didn’t know what to feel except complete shock and confusion. How he maintained his composure, he didn’t know, but glancing at the holo clock, he found that they were nearing end of time anyway. It was still a bit early, but… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could say nothing. He could...process this by himself first before telling Vader. But the man had come here because he’d somehow seen a familiarity that was probably a literal family resemblance that Luke, with no reference other than the suit, still did not see. He’d come and finally opened up to him. If he didn’t give him the answer...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So.” He began, laying the datapad flat on the desk. He didn’t know how he sounded so calm. Perhaps he was going into shock? That was completely possible given the </span>
  <em>
    <span>magnitude of this revelation. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“I regret to inform you that I’m about to add onto your troubles.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Somehow, he felt Vader’s utter confusion. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wait. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He’d been feeling Vader’s feelings all session. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d thought it was just his imagination but </span>
  <em>
    <span>what if he’d somehow inherited his fat--Lord Vader’s weird magic?! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>deal with that right then. So, he continued. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We will </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely </span>
  </em>
  <span>need to work this out together, and possibly find a relationship therapist.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Immediately Vader bristled at the mention of bringing in another therapist. He pointed at him threateningly. “If you so much as </span>
  <em>
    <span>think </span>
  </em>
  <span>about bringing in another one of you idiotic therapists, I will personally make sure to eradicate everyone in your profession by the end of the year!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke just stared at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This </span>
  </em>
  <span>was his father. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Everyone I know just </span>
  <em>
    <span>adds </span>
  </em>
  <span>onto my troubles, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you most especially.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Vader continued, beginning to pace as he ranted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke cut him off. “I assure you, I wouldn’t be suggesting this if I didn’t think it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>absolutely necessary.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader stopped and whirled on him, sarcastically biting out, “Why? What could possibly be wrong with you that would require me inviting another cursed therapist onto my ship?!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.” Luke looked down, at the datapad, resisting the urge to immediately call his supervisor for help. “I’m just your son apparently.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader froze. Stared. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And the room dropped to the coldest temperature yet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What. Did. You. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Say?!” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was on thin ice, but he couldn’t even force himself to care. Not as he wondered if he could magically make the room feel like the inside of a refrigerator-- “My aunt and uncle are Owen and Beru Lars. Their father was Cliegg Lars. His second wife was Shmi Skywalker. Her son, </span>
  <em>
    <span>my father, </span>
  </em>
  <span>was Anakin Skywalker. So unless you’re just now finding out that Anakin is your long lost brother--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Vader interrupted, then continued to just. Stare at him. For once, Luke couldn’t read the man. He just. Stared. That mask completely emotionless. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke wished he had a mask to rely on. Getting through this was a struggle. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well. I suppose that’s why I’m familiar to you.” He said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader made a noise that Luke couldn’t quite identify. “You are </span>
  <em>
    <span>remarkably </span>
  </em>
  <span>calm about this, Young One!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Again. More pointing. His...Lord Vader’s apparent favorite intimidation move. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No my lord,” Luke said with far more composure than he felt, “I assure you, I am having a midlife crisis at the age of twenty two right this very second.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yes. Because that’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly </span>
  </em>
  <span>what he was going through. Already he was rethinking his entire life. Everything he’d been told, everything he’d been taught, and he definitely wanted answers but </span>
  <em>
    <span>he needed a moment to process all of this. </span>
  </em>
  <span>And for some insane, crazy reason, he blurted out, “This is an example of keeping your emotions in check. Please note how I do this so you can try it this week when an officer has disappointed you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was losing it. Why he thought telling </span>
  <em>
    <span>Darth Vader </span>
  </em>
  <span>that, the guy who killed people on a regular basis, he had </span>
  <em>
    <span>no idea. </span>
  </em>
  <span>His brain wasn’t functioning correctly. He needed time to </span>
  <em>
    <span>stop and breathe. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And, thankfully, when he glanced at the holo clock again, it was time to end. “Well. That’s our time--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You just told me you are my dead son!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Vader roared, and Luke noted with alarm that cracks were beginning to form on the viewport. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not good. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, but I am a son with other appointments and I think I’ll need to find my own therapist after this.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You will cancel them!” More finger pointing. Oh, Stars, did he ever do that? Was this a habit that he’d been given and he’d never noticed? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lord Vader. I am setting a boundary. I need to process this information just as much as you do.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You do not look it!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because </span>
  <em>
    <span>again. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I am choosing to keep control over my emotions at this very moment.” Then, realizing that his...Vader might be concerned if indeed he thought he was dead that he’d disappear, Luke added, “I will clear my day tomorrow. You may return then, and we can work this out. That should give me enough time to deal with things on my end.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I run this ship! I am Darth Vader and </span>
  <em>
    <span>apparently, </span>
  </em>
  <span>your father!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you are about to break the port windows.” He pointed at the cracks getting larger. “It’s obvious that we are not ready to continue this conversation until we have </span>
  <em>
    <span>both </span>
  </em>
  <span>calmed. I will see you tomorrow, Lord Vader.” And for some reason, he gave him the biggest, brightest smile he could muster. “Have a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lovely </span>
  </em>
  <span>day!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader stared at him. Luke thought for a moment he might ignore him anyway and continue to demand answers Luke didn’t have. But then, without another word, Vader stormed from the office, only pausing to look back at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will be here tomorrow. Do </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>fail me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke didn’t even want to know what would happen if he wasn’t there, but he nodded. Vader didn’t say another word as he yet again turned and left, leaving Luke alone in a silent office with a cracked port window. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a moment, he just sat there, staring after Vader, his heart pounding in his ears. Then, numbly, he reached for the comm and speed dialed his new droid. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you ready for your next appointment?” Cyl’s voice replied the moment the line picked up. “My, Lord Vader sure seemed like he had quite the session.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>More than you know. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Luke rubbed his face. “Cancel all of my appointments today and tomorrow.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cyl made a clicking noise. “But your next appointment is already here.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know!” Luke bit his lip, trying to keep his emotions in check just a bit longer. “I know. I’m sorry. An emergency has come up. Give everyone priority rescheduling, but I need today and tomorrow for other business...actually, for tomorrow, just put that the entire day is Lord Vader’s time.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>His father’s time…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you say so.” Cyl sounded unenthused. “I will make it work, Mr. Lars.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lars. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Skywalker. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He groaned. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The moment Cyl hung up, Luke reached over, grabbed the fluffy duck, buried his face in it…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And started screaming into it. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I've been SO excited to write the reveal scene, you have NO IDEA. I hope you enjoyed! <br/>Love, <br/>LadyVader23</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Awkward Reunion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>He had a son. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Every single step he took, that galaxy-shattering sentence repeated over and over again. He had no idea why he was listening to the boy and giving him the space he requested. The entire galaxy seemed to flip on its head, and he was left trying to make sense of the pieces. If he was thinking rationally, he’d turn around, bust the door down and refuse to let the boy out of his sight. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke Skywalker. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He was a father. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the time he made it back to his meditation pod, he was shaking. Vader. Dark Lord of the Sith. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shaking. </span>
  </em>
  <span>But he couldn’t stop. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His son was alive, and was currently a </span>
  <em>
    <span>therapist. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The pod closed, and before he took his helmet off, he commed Piett. The small image appeared before him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, my lord?” Piett asked, standing at perfect attention. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am not to be disturbed for the next few days. If I require anything, I will contact you.” He hesitated, remembering that he didn’t technically answer to himself. “The only exception is if the Emperor calls.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Force. The </span>
  <em>
    <span>Emperor. </span>
  </em>
  <span>If he found out...but what if he already knew and that was why he’d upheld the stupid court’s decision? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No. No, the Emperor would be threatened by his children. He’d been his apprentice for twenty two years. That was long enough to understand that the Emperor would never allow it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In fact, Luke could be killed if he were to be found out…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It will be done, my lord.” Piett replied. There was only the slightest concern in his voice to indicate that he was confused. It wasn’t often that he made such orders, but Vader knew Piett could handle anything that might come up. So he cut the call connection, and flipped the helmet release switch. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When the helmet was off, he sucked in air, then summoned a datapad to his hands, pulling up Luke Skywalker--</span>
  <em>
    <span>no, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Luke Lars’ profile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was the same profile he’d reviewed before. It was black and white, giving only the bare essentials needed to perform Imperial service, and yet the details were suddenly incredibly important. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Name: Luke Lars </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Why was his name listed as Lars? Then again, had it been listed as Skywalker, the chances of the Emperor finding him before he ever had were much higher. Then, with a start, Vader remembered something from their first meeting…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>“My name is Luke Lars, but I like to be called Luke Sk--” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I will not call you a ridiculous nickname.” Vader held up a hand to stop him. “If I am feeling generous, I will call you by your given name.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy had tried to give it to him and he’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>stupidly stopped him. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He’d spent the last few weeks calling the boy an idiot when it was he who’d been one. If he’d just let the boy finish his sentence…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He couldn’t change the past, though, so he continued reading. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Age: 22 years </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Force, he had to have been born the same day he’d lost his…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He let that thought go cold and skimmed over the physical description. Nothing there that he couldn’t see himself, besides the specific color of his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blue eyes. Like his had once been. And the </span>
  <em>
    <span>shape...</span>
  </em>
  <span>they were the same.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Home Planet: Tatooine </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>How? </span>
  <em>
    <span>How </span>
  </em>
  <span>had he ended up there? He had a suspicion, of course, but that didn’t make sense. If Kenobi had stolen him away, Luke wouldn’t have grown up to become a </span>
  <em>
    <span>therapist. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He’d be a Jedi, and therefore his enemy. Nevermind that Kenobi would </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>have allowed Luke to be assigned to his ship. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Honestly, he wasn’t sure that being a therapist was that much worse than being a Jedi. The boy was incredibly calm and bright--he would have been too good at being a Jedi. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was a serious problem he’d have to remedy, but for now he moved on to medical history. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was nothing of note. From all appearances, the boy was healthy. He let out a sigh of relief even as his eyes drifted to the medical lab results section. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All galactic citizens were required to receive certain labs. One of which was a midichlorian lab...though no one was told that’s what it was. It was there specifically to root out Force sensitive children and deal with them appropriately early on. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke’s was negative. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>An uneasy feeling settled in his gut. That didn’t feel right...it was not often that Force sensitives produced their own children, especially if they were Jedi, but when they did there was naturally a higher change that the child would also inherit the abilities. It was still possible to be born totally normal, but whenever he’d ever dared to wonder about what life would have been like had his wife and child survived, he’d always assumed his child would have been Force sensitive too. He was, after all, the most powerful to ever be born. It seemed natural that Luke should be sensitive too. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But the test…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Perhaps it was faked? That would be incredibly difficult, considering swapping blood samples would show a duplicate in the system, but there could potentially be other ways to sabotage the results. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Unless Luke truly was non-sensitive? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No. His child </span>
  <em>
    <span>would </span>
  </em>
  <span>inherit his powers. He knew this. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What if...what if Luke had lied…? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Black </span>
  <em>
    <span>rage </span>
  </em>
  <span>rippled through him even as the Force rejected the idea. If the boy had lied...but no, even beyond the fact that the Force confirmed the impossible truth of Luke’s declaration, he’d known far too many details. The moment he’d spoken the names of the family his mother had married into, his mind had recalled the names itself, along with their faces. It was a fuzzy memory, but it was there, and it was not information that would be available to even the most skilled imposter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No. Luke was his son. But, after some thought, he decided it would be good to do a blood test anyway, not only to confirm the boy’s parentage, but also determine the actual midichlorian count. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He just hoped the boy would be true to his word and be there tomorrow. He still itched to get up and storm back to confront him, but he remembered the last time he’d attempted to ignore his boundaries. Luke had clutched his datapad so tightly, he’d been dragged halfway across the desk before Vader stopped trying to take it from him. What stubborn insanity would the boy do if he tried to cross this new boundary? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d already destroyed his previous wife. He didn’t need to immediately ruin what he had left of her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So, though it pained him, Vader reluctantly complied. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Perhaps this therapy was paying off in some way after all. </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Luke was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>prepared for this. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After he spent far too long screaming into his duck, the first thing he did was pull out his personal comm and call his aunt and uncle. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His aunt picked up. “Oh, Luke, I wasn’t expecting your call until the weekend.” She smiled, her weathered face wrinkling with laugh lines. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was such a normal interaction, it almost threw him off. He let out a shaky breath. “My father wasn’t a spice navigator, was he?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The smile disappeared from her face. “I...I should get Owen, he’s out on the farm--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t, </span>
  </em>
  <span>was he?” Emotion clawed at his throat and his voice broke. Tears threatened to spill...and he let them. Crying was a healthy way to express emotion, after all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yet Beru appeared alarmed, and stayed with the comm. “No. No, Luke, he wasn’t.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He closed his eyes, more tears falling down his face. Did he tell her he knew his father was alive? And that apparently he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>Darth Vader? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Who knew how much she knew? “Tell me everything. The </span>
  <em>
    <span>truth </span>
  </em>
  <span>this time.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She hesitated, still probably wondering if she should go get his uncle. He kind of hoped she didn’t--it was always an argument with him when it came to getting information on his father, and he wasn’t emotionally ready to deal with that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, she sighed and began. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You were brought to us as a baby by a Jedi named Obi-Wan Kenobi. He told us that your father, Anakin Skywalker, who was also a Jedi, had died, and that you would be in danger if anyone found out you survived. He said your mother had died giving birth to you, but he didn’t say who she was. We weren’t lying about that.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well. At least something was the truth. Then, he realized that all these years of not knowing who his mother had been could finally come to an end. He could just ask Vader…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But given how he responded to literally anything about his personal life, he thought that might be dangerous. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We wanted to protect you, so we tried to steer away from the topic of your father as much as we could. We thought that if you knew your father was a Jedi, the Empire might find you and…” she trailed off. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Jedi. He didn’t know much about them other than that they were enemies of the Empire. And according to Vader, they used a weak form of the Force. Were they the ones who had liberated Vader from slavery? And if his father had stopped using the name Anakin, then it was completely possible that his aunt and uncle had no idea that this Obi-Wan Kenobi had lied to them about his father being dead. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who is Obi-Wan Kenobi?” He asked. The name sounded familiar, but he couldn’t quite place why. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He was the Jedi who trained your father. They were apparently close, so when your parents died, you were entrusted to him to bring to us. He wanted to protect you, but your uncle blamed him for bringing danger upon our family and he wanted to spare you from suffering the same fate as your father. So, he banished Obi-Wan from the property, but you’ve met him before anyway.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then, he remembered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ben Kenobi? The crazy wizard in the Jundland Wastes?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beru nodded. “After you went to school, he left. I suppose you can take care of yourself now.” She tried for a smile, but there was still concern in her eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Could he take care of himself? He was starting to doubt that with every session he had with Vader. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he didn’t continue, Beru said, “Your uncle should really be involved in this conversation, but he’s out working on the vaporators. Maybe we could talk more about it this weekend?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He...supposed he had enough information, and he did have other things he needed to take care of to even begin processing this enormous revelation. “Yeah. I’ll call you then.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beru searched his face, her eyes seeing more than he probably knew. She was always like that. It’s why he got along with her more than his uncle. “I love you, Luke. You know that, right?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He reached up and wiped tears from his face. “I know. I love you too. Thanks for telling me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When they cut connection, he took a moment to clean up his face and do a few breathing exercises before calling his boss. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The moment Mr. Aldel picked up, Luke blurted, “I know you said their answer isn’t going to change, but it’s going to have to now.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mr. Aldel blinked in surprise. “Are you alright? Have you been harmed?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Just my sanity. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“The relationship between me and Lord Vader has become unethical.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke opened his mouth...then closed it, unsure how to come out and say, “Guess what, Darth Vader has a kid and he’s me!” It would definitely illustrate why he needed to change clients, but not only was it completely wild and unbelievable, he suddenly realized it was dangerous. If his aunt and uncle had lied to him about his father to try to protect him from the Empire…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But they didn’t know his father was still alive and the Emperor’s right hand. Maybe it wasn’t such a big deal because his father wasn’t a traitor and he had no desire to even touch his possible powers? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t know, but that seemed like something he should know before he started telling people he was Darth Vader’s son. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...It just has been. I can’t discuss the details.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mr. Aldel raised a brow. “I’m your boss. If something truly unethical is going on, you can at least give me the basics.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke knew this would doom his chances of getting Vader a new therapist, but he said, “I’m sorry...but I can’t go into detail at this time. Can’t you just trust me?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His boss sighed and shook his head. “I’m sorry Luke. If I could find anyone else willing to take Lord Vader on, I would, but everyone is...well, they’re terrified of him.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Considering that Vader had no issue with strangling people he didn’t like, Luke could understand why, even if it left him with no way out of the situation. At least, until he could confirm how safe he actually was. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke ran his hands up and down his face. “Then I’m going to need a therapist of my own.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mr. Aldel nodded, and Luke didn’t miss the relief on his face. A pang of bitterness hit him, but he filed it away for later. He’d deal with the emotions surrounding his job situation at a more appropriate time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The moment he was off the call, Luke again buried his face in his duck and started screaming into it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His father was Darth Vader. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin Skywalker was Darth Vader. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His priority client was his </span>
  <em>
    <span>father. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And there were so many, many issues, he didn’t even know where to begin with him as his </span>
  <em>
    <span>therapist </span>
  </em>
  <span>let alone his </span>
  <em>
    <span>son. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That alone made him start deep breathing exercises to keep from going into a panic attack. But later, when he finally managed to force himself to order food, he began to consider other pressing problems. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For example. The possibility that he had inherited Vader’s mysterious powers was strong. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The thought made him sick enough that he decided not to touch it. There was no way he was going to work through </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>problem before tomorrow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So instead, when his food arrived and he managed to force food down, he contemplated how he felt about the whole situation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was shock, naturally. What were the chances that his father was not only still alive, but his </span>
  <em>
    <span>client? </span>
  </em>
  <span>There literally hadn’t been anything about how to deal with this in school, but he’d reached out to find his own therapist so perhaps he could figure out a way to handle that without revealing the nature of the situation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke’s fork stilled on his plate. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was, if he was honest, horror. He had always known his father had been in some kind of shady business...a </span>
  <em>
    <span>spice navigator </span>
  </em>
  <span>wasn’t innocent at all. But it was adventurous, and though he recognized as an adult that his father’s supposed job had hurt others, he’d still admired the idea of him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was the most powerful man in the galaxy, save for the Emperor. He’d killed innocents. He did that on an almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>daily basis </span>
  </em>
  <span>while doing his job. It was this habit that had sent him to therapy in the first place. Luke couldn’t ignore the enormity of what Vader was or what he could do. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And now this man was his father. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But from what little he knew about Vader’s past, there was enormous trauma there. He had little doubt it had gone so unresolved, it had warped him into...this. He wasn’t even fully sure yet the full extent of what Vader was. Already he knew that as a therapist, he needed to at least give him the chance to change to a healthier lifestyle. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Except only Vader could decide that. He could provide all of the help in the universe, but only Vader could make the change. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And he’d been pretty clear on what he thought about that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was all so complicated. Even when he thought a negative, he found something else to give him hope that maybe he could somehow salvage this mess, but then he’d find </span>
  <em>
    <span>another </span>
  </em>
  <span>negative thing to counteract that. It lasted hours, hours which he spent reviewing the court order for any loopholes, and then there were none, he pressed his face into the duck and screamed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was starting to see why the duck was so popular with some of his clients. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before he attempted to sleep, he began to shut down his work station. Normally he left at least his datapad on, but he’d already stared at the screen for so long, he knew having it on would only tempt him to leave bed to continue searching for a solution to his client-father crisis. But as he shut apps down, he came across the document he’d had open that very morning, a document he’d filled out in the hopeful, innocent desire to solidify a connection to his father. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Name Change document. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stared at it. He stared at his name, the name that had made </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything </span>
  </em>
  <span>more complicated than he’d ever desired...and deleted it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was just too confusing. Perhaps when he’d managed to get control over his life, then he’d talk to Vader about his desire to take on the name of Skywalker. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And, part of him thought, it would depend on what that name will mean to you after this is over. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite his best efforts, he lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling as his thoughts and emotions continued to tumble. </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Vader was always on time to his appointments, even his therapy sessions. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Today, he was a half an hour early. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are here.” Luke’s droid greeted when he stormed in. There was a skeptical tone to it. “Well. I won’t ask you to sign in, because apparently you’re the exception to the rules, but I will tell you you’re too early. Mr. Lars only just barely entered his office.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lars. That cursed name again. Vader’s teeth set on edge as his hands curled into fists. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will see him now.” He stormed past the desk, and the droid made a disapproving tsking noise. But it did not stop him, so using the Force, he opened the door and stormed right in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To find Luke, hair disheveled, uniform not fully buttoned, downing a large cup of what appeared to be caff. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why am I not surprised that you’re here early?” Luke said hoarsely when he set the cup down, rubbing his eyes that, to Vader’s alarm, had circles under his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wanted to immediately begin demanding answers to his many, many questions. It’s what he’d normally do. In fact, if everything was normal, he would have gotten his answers </span>
  <em>
    <span>yesterday. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But apparently, when it came to Luke, nothing was ever normal. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you ill?” Was his first question. It tasted strange on his tongue. When was the last time he’d ever bothered to notice anyone sick, let alone asked about it? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke stopped rubbing his eyes to stare unblinkingly at him for a long, long moment. Then, he sighed. “Something like that.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sounded as terrible as he looked. A foreign feeling began to swell in his chest and Vader was about to ask...well, he wasn’t sure what, but before he could, Luke continued. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"So. On to business.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Business? Normally he preferred to skip the pleasantries and go straight to the matter at hand, but Luke was his </span>
  <em>
    <span>son. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Shouldn’t there at least be some? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I tried to find you another therapist because, in light of our relationship, our meeting together breaks about a million ethical codes of conduct, but the reaction I received made clear that won't happen, so I suppose we will have to continue."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well. Vader wouldn’t deny that was immensely satisfactory. He didn’t want to deal with an idiotic therapist. He didn’t want to deal with any of them, but he supposed the stupid court order had brought him Luke so...for now, he would cease complaining about it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is this a session?” He asked, crossing his arms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke tilted his head, considering. “I guess it depends on the nature of our discussion, but I think it’s imperative that we establish boundaries.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was that word again. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Boundaries. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not necessary. I never had boundaries and it works fine for me. Perhaps it is you who needs to learn to live without them.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke gave him another long, unblinking stare. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah...no. That’s not how that works.” He finally said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader pointed at him furiously. “That is </span>
  <em>
    <span>precisely </span>
  </em>
  <span>how this works, Young One!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke’s face twisted in...disgust? Dismay? Tentatively, Vader reached into the Force to ascertain the answer…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And came back with so many wild emotions from the boy, he immediately retreated. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Apparently, he wasn’t as calm as he looked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “Young One?” He repeated, “I’m in my twenties, Lord Vader. I have a degree and a full time job. And believe me, </span>
  <em>
    <span>it’s full time. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I am not a child anymore.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lord Vader?” It was Vader’s turn to repeat. “I am your </span>
  <em>
    <span>father, </span>
  </em>
  <span>not--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And how safe is it, exactly, to be calling you father?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader opened his mouth to object...and stilled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Apparently, my entire life is a lie because my aunt and uncle were told by someone that if I were ever found, I’d be killed like my father before me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>dead yet.” Vader immediately replied. “Though many have tried.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well </span>
  <em>
    <span>now </span>
  </em>
  <span>I know that.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But something else had caught his attention. “Who took you?!” He demanded. “Who stole you from me?!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He already suspected, but when Luke replied, “Some guy named Obi-Wan Kenobi--” He roared in </span>
  <em>
    <span>rage. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Quickly, Luke pointed at the port window that was still cracked from the previous day and added, “Please, Lord Vader, control your anger before you send us hurtling into space--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will do as I wish, especially when </span>
  <em>
    <span>my son </span>
  </em>
  <span>was taken from me by the very same man who left me in this suit!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a stunned silence. Then, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Of course you didn’t.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Vader snarled, his fists clenching. Oh, how he wanted to find Kenobi and destroy him...but Kenobi had disappeared shortly after he’d blown up the first Death Star. He’d searched everywhere to no avail. “Do you know where he is?! Has he contacted you in any way? Did he ever train you?!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He reached into the Force, monitoring Luke’s stunned presence as he replied, “I’ve only said maybe five words to the guy my entire life. My uncle...apparently he blamed old Ben Kenobi for your death and banned him from our farm. I don’t know anything about him.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The rage was still there, but it simmered as he determined that Luke was, in fact, telling the truth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But to know that his son had been kidnapped by his most hated enemy...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke sighed and took a long sip from his caff. “Point is, I figured there might be some dangers to being related, so unless I’m wrong…?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wanted to insist that Luke was totally safe, because, he realized at that moment, he’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>ensure </span>
  </em>
  <span>the boy’s safety. Anyone who tried to threaten him or even look at him the wrong way would be dead. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But then he remembered the Emperor...and grudgingly he replied, “Lord Vader will do for now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke nodded knowingly, and Vader hated that this was the case. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d need to figure out a way to deal with the Emperor, and soon. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So. I reviewed the court documents and they are completely air tight. No loopholes to be found. You have to go to therapy.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader rolled his eyes. “I already tried that. Had you asked, I could have saved you some time.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, well, for my own peace of mind…” Luke trailed off, then shook his head. “Point is, I can’t get you another therapist--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because everyone is terrified of me?” For some reason, the thought made him smirk, especially as Luke squirmed in his chair uncomfortably. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“N-no, I’m sure it’s not--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am fully aware and okay with this. It means no further hippie therapists will invade my ship.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke made a face. “Again, we’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>hippies.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My crew acting like they’ve lost their minds since meeting you would say otherwise.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s...that’s not the </span>
  <em>
    <span>point </span>
  </em>
  <span>I’m trying to make here.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, you are still trying to set a ridiculous boundary.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Though it’s not ridiculous, it’s perfectly healthy.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then what do you propose?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you’d stop </span>
  <em>
    <span>interrupting me </span>
  </em>
  <span>I could get there!” And there was just a slight edge of annoyance in the boy’s normally perfectly masked facade. “When we are scheduled to meet, you and I will be nothing but therapist and client.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But we’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>not--”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh look, more interrupting.” Luke gave him a look, and he debated on pushing him further just to see what would happen (and what </span>
  <em>
    <span>power </span>
  </em>
  <span>might manifest from it), but he decided against it. For now. “Family relationships normally shouldn’t exist between a therapist and their client. It becomes messy quick because the professional boundaries are often blurred. My concern is your mental and emotional health and I do not wish to damage it. So, when we meet, we are not related. When the session is over, we can go back to being father and son...though obviously privately as we’ve established before.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But you also said you have a full time job.” Vader pointed at him, “I will not have you using that job to excuse yourself!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That wasn’t what I was saying.” Luke sighed. “You are not the only one who has desired a familial connection.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader...had nothing to say to that. Or rather, it was difficult to respond on account of it suddenly being difficult to speak. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke...desired a connection with him? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Technically, he’d said familial connection, he hadn’t been specific but…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hope bloomed in his chest.It was an unfamiliar feeling...but it was encouraging. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I propose we set aside two hours. One for therapy, and one to just...get to know one another.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do not like the idea of </span>
  <em>
    <span>scheduling time </span>
  </em>
  <span>with my own son.” Vader crossed his arms over his chest, glaring. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t say it was ideal, but ideally we wouldn’t have met while in the middle of a therapy session. I’m trying to keep those two things separate and this is my best idea. Do you have a better one?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No more therapy. Problem solved.” He replied immediately. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Except we both know that’s not possible.” Luke pointed out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can get rid of your other clients.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s not professional or possible. Besides, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>to help those people.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do not.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t have a say in my choice in career.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do so, you are my son and you and I both know that with that comes responsibility.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke’s expression hardened. It was the coldest he’d ever seen from the boy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think it’s important to establish another important boundary.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You did not inherit this love of boundaries from me, that is clear.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke ignored his comment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have already made your position on what you think about my job clear enough. However, this is the job I chose. I went to four years of school and went into a bunch of debt to earn this. If I decide to leave it, it will be my decision, not yours. Besides, we established already that we’re keeping this relationship on the down low until it’s safer, so it might be weird if your therapist suddenly takes on whatever responsibilities come with being your son.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dealing with the Emperor was becoming higher on his priority list with every passing moment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was not referring to public job responsibilities. I was referring to your </span>
  <em>
    <span>powers.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke’s expression went white. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are my son. I am certain you inherited my powers, and I suspect you might know this too. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>need </span>
  </em>
  <span>training.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader sneered. “Now who is in denial?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s a good thing I’m getting my own therapist then.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader rolled his eyes. Why was the boy’s solutions always boundaries and therapy? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Regardless, you must learn to control your powers. You have a </span>
  <em>
    <span>destiny </span>
  </em>
  <span>Luke.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m good, thanks. Besides, like I said, I have student loans to pay off.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader held out his hand and before Luke could protest, summoned his datapad from the desk to his hand and began working on it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lord Vader, you were supposed to </span>
  <em>
    <span>ask--” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will pay off your loans. It is of no consequence. Then you will not have any excuses.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you ask me if I needed that--?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do not care. I have missed out on twenty two years of your life. You can consider it a very late birthday….” He trailed off as he found the boy’s loan amount. “Ohhhh….oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>no….</span>
  </em>
  <span>You know what? I’m not going to pay this off. I’m going to take a lightsaber to whoever’s charging this much.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke actually snorted. “I should be discouraging that behavior, but honestly, be my guest.” Then when Vader began making a mental note to track down who was the idiot who charged this much for a degree that ended in a crack pot profession, Luke added, “Just to be clear, I was kidding. That was a joke. Please do not actually take a lightsaber to anyone because they charge an insane amount of money for school.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He made a mental note to </span>
  <em>
    <span>secretly </span>
  </em>
  <span>take a lightsaber to whoever charged this much. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you want to give me something,” Luke added, “Please. Just. Try to work with me? Try to respect my boundaries? Please?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader opened his mouth to deny it...but there was so much pleading and desperation in his voice that the words wouldn’t come. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In that moment, he had a sinking suspicion that the boy was about to change his life far more than he’d ever imagined. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will attempt to do so,” And as Luke’s shoulders slumped, he added, “Under one condition.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke’s gaze narrowed. “Depends on the condition.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You will train with me at least one hour per week. I will show you how to control your power.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Immediately he felt...apprehension? Dismay? He wasn’t sure, but it wasn’t the positive feeling he would have expected from someone who’d just discovered they had the ability to use the most powerful force in the galaxy on a whim. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’d...teach me just to use it, right? No trying to get me to quit my job?” He clarified. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“One of your boundaries includes me not making you quit your job, so yes.” Not that he liked it…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His son. </span>
  <em>
    <span>A therapist. </span>
  </em>
  <span>If his Master only knew… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke thought about it for a moment, then, finally, he nodded. “As long as you uphold your end of the deal, I’ll uphold mine.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Satisfaction bloomed in his chest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d never attempted to imagine what having a child would be like, not since he thought his child dead...but now, with his son sitting </span>
  <em>
    <span>right there, </span>
  </em>
  <span>so innocent and naive due to his ridiculous profession…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could make this work. He’d show Luke just how great being a Sith truly was. Then he could convince him to mark all of his therapy as being done, and they’d focus on his rightful position at his right hand, they’d take down the Emperor together…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The list of possibilities were endless. He and his son would be unstoppable. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, what’s first?” Luke asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader smirked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A blood test.” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And it just continues to get more complicated!!! Again this ended up more angsty than I initially intended, but the Skywalkers are a pretty angsty bunch. Hope you all enjoyed! <br/>Love, <br/>LadyVader23</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. An Unexpected Lunch Event</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The blood results, of course, came back positive. Luke for some reason hadn’t had any doubts about his relation to Darth Vader, but that would have erased any that lingered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It had taken him longer to get Lord Vader to leave his office...it wasn’t because he didn’t want to know his father. Technically, finding out his father was alive was a dream come true. But given who his father was, it made things rather difficult to spend more than an hour or two in his presence before wanting to tear his own hair out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, before bed that night, Cyl entered his broom closet of a room carrying something in his hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have a present.” He announced, his tone disapproving. “Accepting presents. How unprofessional.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“From who?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“From Lord Vader. I did not expect him to be the gift-giving type.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke didn’t know why he bothered asking. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay. Well, what is it?” He half dreaded what kind of “present” Vader would think appropriate to give anyone, let alone his son. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cyl held out his hand. In it, was a bottle of medication. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For your illness.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh. His fib. It had been easier to let his father/boss/client think he was under the weather when he’d walked in on him looking like he’d been run over repeatedly by a bantha. He’d honestly forgotten and had expected Vader to do the same. But here he was, being handed medication for said illness. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was oddly thoughtful. Maybe he had broken through in some tinie tiny way. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He thanked Cyl and placed the bottle on his bedside table. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he woke the next morning after a fitful night of sleep, he opened his door to find Piett standing in his lobby, waiting with his hands clasped behind his back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke let out a long groan. He wasn’t even dressed yet. “Why do I have a feeling Lord Vader sent you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Great instincts, Mr. Lars.” Piett smiled tiredly. Luke was really starting to understand why Piett looked like he survived solely off caff. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What now?” He realized he wasn’t exactly being respectful, but he hadn’t even made it to the fresher yet. He was still in his pajamas. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Piett paused, an odd look passing over his expression. “He wishes for you to move to your own bedroom suite, separate from your office.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke blinked in surprise even as Cyl, who’d just powered on from a night of recharging, muttered, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Unprofessional gifts.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Luke hoped Piett wouldn’t ask the droid if there had been more from Lord Vader. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I...that’s great, but did he say why?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I’m afraid he didn’t.” Piett replied, lifting a brow. “I was hoping you might know more?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Because I’m his son and he’s decided that he probably shouldn’t have his son living in what amounts to little more than a broom closet? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Aloud he replied, “No clue whatsoever.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wasn’t sure if Piett believed him, but he didn’t push. Maybe he was used to his boss making cryptic decisions. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In any case, he’d like for you to move first thing today.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can’t. I’ve got appointments and I’ve already had to cancel the last few days.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh. Yes. Because you were ill?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jeez, how many people had Vader told? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah...I’m much better now, though. Ready to get to work.” He plastered an overly bright smile on his face to convince the older man. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm. Well, Lord Vader was very specific.” Luke opened his mouth to protest, making a mental note to add this to his list of boundaries, when Piett added, “But I can get some people to move things for you. Unless you’d like to rearrange your schedule?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke sighed. Technically, he didn’t have many possessions in the first place, and he definitely didn’t have anything to hide from anyone (except his name, but that wasn’t in his room), so he relented. “Just make sure they don’t disturb my patients.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course, Mr. Lars.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And for the most part, the men Piett chose to pack and move his stuff were discreet. A few of his clients who happened to be there during the move asked about it, to which he simply replied, “Turns out a more suitable living quarters opened up.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He thought it wouldn’t be a big deal. There were thousands of living quarters on a ship the size of the Executor. Lord Vader, in remembering their agreement to keep things on the down low, had probably given him a typical room, maybe even given him a roommate. When he went to check before he headed to lunch, he found he was very wrong. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The room was literally bigger than his home on Tatooine. It had its own living room, dining area, a walk in fresher, and a huge bedroom. Both the bedroom and the living area had a floor-to-floor viewport looking out into space. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This. This was not </span>
  <em>
    <span>subtle. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He was fairly certain this was the kind of room reserved for grand moffs and other incredibly important people. Not some farm boy-turned-therapist who didn’t even have enough possessions to make his bedroom look occupied. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Except, technically, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>someone important. Technically, he was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>prince. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He quickly left the room before he could start panicking at the thought. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He made his way into the cafeteria, hoping that he looked normal as he ordered his food paired with a giant cup of caff. He wasn’t normally a caff drinker--he was even less so of an alcoholic, but the entire situation was definitely making him want to take a bunch of personal time to chill. Caff would at least keep him awake for the rest of his appointments that day. Maybe that evening he’d wind down with a fancy cup of hot cocoa. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yes. That actually sounded divine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once he got his collection, he turned and went to sit with the usual group of troopers he liked to sit with. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey Luke.” Tylo, one of the troopers, greeted when he sat down, “Haven’t seen you in a few days.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. I was feeling under the weather. I’m much better now, though.” Luke flashed a smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tylo glanced at the other troopers. Being in the mess hall, helmets weren’t required, so Luke didn’t miss the pointed expressions on their faces before he said, “Well, you’re here now, that’s all that matters.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Why did he have a sneaking suspicion that they’d placed bets on his fate? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So you gunna tell us why you just got upgraded to a moff’s suite?” Orron, another trooper friend (and client) he’d made, asked, and Luke’s heart sank. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So his room was a suite made for a moff.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Great. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He focused on his food as he shrugged. “Dunno. Lord Vader just put me there.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a silence. “Maybe you got through to him?” Tylo asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nah. There’s no getting through to Lord Vader.” Another trooper said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe he--oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>kriff.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke looked up, frowning when he saw that the trooper’s had gone still. In fact, the entire mess hall had gone silent. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Except for the sound of steady mechanical breathing coming closer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His entire body went rigid. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Stars, no...why is he here? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Slowly, he turned. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was Vader, looking weirdly out of place, coming towards them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Coming towards him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke’s mind raced with possibilities as the man stopped, completely looming over him, his shoulders tilted so that he could look down at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lord Vader.” Luke greeted awkwardly after a silence. “I don’t have you on my schedule today; is there something I can do to help you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Somehow, he felt the room grow colder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have decided to spend lunch with you.” Vader finally said, crossing his arms over his chest in a gesture of finality. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke blinked at him. Suddenly he’d lost his appetite. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>This was not subtle at all. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m...sort of eating with...I mean I guess you could join us…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your friends already left.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke whirled back around. Sure enough, the troopers were gone, and he was pretty sure he’d spotted them with another group on the far end of the room, watching from a distance. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Like everyone else. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What was he supposed to do? Say no? In front of everyone? That would make Vader look bad, and might just cause more drama than it was worth. And...and maybe he actually wanted to spend time with his son. There wasn’t anything </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong </span>
  </em>
  <span>with that, and in fact if his son had been anyone else, Luke would have suggested such a seemingly normal father-son interaction. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Lord Vader wasn’t normal, and Luke wasn’t supposed to exist, according to the Emperor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe we could eat--oh. Okay.” Vader didn’t wait for his response. He walked around the table and sat where Orron had been sitting moments earlier, directly across from him. Luke didn’t miss how the chair Vader sat in creaked ominously under his weight. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is my ship. I will go where I please.” Vader told him ominously by way of explanation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you...often come here?” Luke asked. Maybe if Vader occasionally ate here, it wouldn’t be as weird? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh. Well. It was definitely awkward, then. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They stared at one another for a long moment. Around them, troops attempted to go back to eating like normal, but Luke could still feel their stares. He could only guess what everyone’s speculations were. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wanted to start talking to Vader about his idea of keeping things on the down low, but he didn’t dare. Not when they were the center of attention. So, awkwardly, Luke forced himself to shove food into his mouth, chew, swallow, then say, “Nice weather we’re having.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He immediately cursed himself. They were in </span>
  <em>
    <span>space. </span>
  </em>
  <span>There was no weather, at least not in the traditional sense. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader didn’t bother commenting on it. He probably thought it wasn’t worth the breath, and this time Luke couldn’t completely disagree with him. “I assume the quarters were to your liking.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yet another thing that wasn’t subtle at all but he couldn’t confront Vader about in the moment. Numbly, Luke nodded, shoving more food into his mouth to keep from having to talk. That, and he figured that as soon as he’d finished his food, the sooner he could make an excuse to leave. “Thank you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do not thank me. It is below you.” Vader immediately admonished. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke’s fork stilled on his plate. “Lord Vader.” He said, lifting a brow. “I was raised to be polite, and that’s exactly what I intend to do. So </span>
  <em>
    <span>thank you </span>
  </em>
  <span>for the consideration in giving me my own room.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader bristled, probably about to go on some rant about how Luke needed to live up to whatever vision he had for him that somehow included not thanking people, but this time he seemed to remember where he was. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At least, that’s what Luke thought, until he heard his voice </span>
  <em>
    <span>in his head. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Sith do not thank anyone. It is a weakness to be indebted to anyone. They will use it against--what is wrong with you?” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke had taken a bite out of his food, and when he’d heard the voice and realized that somehow Lord Vader was </span>
  <em>
    <span>speaking to him in his mind, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he’d accidentally gasped, sucking the food down his throat. Now he was coughing and sputtering, his eyes watering as he tried to dislodge the wayward food from his throat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he’d managed to swallow it, he wheezed, “How--</span>
  <em>
    <span>Why?!” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For some reason, he had the distinct impression that Vader was amused. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“It is a simple ability, especially between those who have a bond.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>More of that talking in his head. It was too loud, too personal. Luke reached up and rubbed his temples, as if that would make the voice leave his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you come here because….because of our deal?” The hour a week of Force training Vader wanted to do with him. He didn’t know what he’d expected, but it certainly hadn’t been this. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. I came to eat with you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Except Lord Vader didn’t even have food with him. It was all totally one-sided. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke couldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>say something. He didn’t know how it was possible that someone as high up and experienced as Lord Vader was so terrible at subtlety. “You aren’t very good at keeping things on the down low, are you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader crossed his arms, the chair creaking ominously yet again beneath him. How heavy </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>he? “I am excellent at all things military.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh huh.” Luke busied himself with drinking some caff. “Well, you’re welcome to join, but don’t...you know.” He pointed to his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I don’t see why not. It is a useful way to discuss things when you obviously do not wish for others to overhear.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke refrained from groaning. “It’s a violation of privacy.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I am not reading your mind, though your mental shields are weak enough that I could--” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay!” Luke abruptly stood up. His food was half eaten, but he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>comfortable with finding out that apparently Vader was a mind reader in the middle of a busy mess hall. “Well, look at the time, I’ve got another appointment coming up. This has been just...lovely, and--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You are running from the conversation. I thought you wanted a connection.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>but there was a time and a place and Vader was apparently horrible at picking them. “And I’ll see you bright and early for your appointment, my lord.” He gave him a look that he hoped said, </span>
  <em>
    <span>drop it, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and grabbed his tray, all but rushing to the garbage chute. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He half feared Lord Vader would follow him. Maybe he did and Luke was just too quick to duck out of the room, but he managed to get to his office, slam the door, and let out a long, painful groan. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Being the son of Darth Vader evidently would take some getting used to. The man was </span>
  <em>
    <span>quite </span>
  </em>
  <span>clingy and he didn’t seem to realize it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, Luke thought as he went to his desk to begin preparing for his next appointment, he couldn’t help but think, with the right circumstances and appropriate audience, a lunch appointment with his father would actually be...maybe…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nice. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ahhh I know it's short, and I do have more written, but this just felt like the right place to end it for this chapter, especially since it's been so long since my last update. Work's been busy and I did a few fic exchanges so it's been an adventure. I also recently re-watched Revenge of the Sith and realized just how terrible Anakin is at spying or anything subtle...I mean dude didn't last five minutes "spying" on palpapoop. So, I figured he'd be not as subtle as he thinks he is and poor Luke doesn't know what to do with that. I hope you enjoyed the chapter anyway!<br/>Love,<br/>Lady Vader</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. The First Bonding Session</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Apparently, getting to know his son would be more difficult than Vader had anticipated. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He absolutely hated that he’d just found his long lost son and yet circumstances made it impossible to be with him as much as he’d liked. He’d had some extra time during the time he knew Luke usually went to lunch, so he’d thought, despite their arrangement, he could drop by and spend time with his son. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was fairly certain Luke hadn’t enjoyed it at all, making him more frustrated than usual. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Admiral.” Vader said later that night on the bridge. He’d glared out at the stars for hours, stewing over the boy he could feel even with the many life forms and levels between them. The boy was a supernova in the Force--how had he missed that? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Lord Vader?” Piett replied, looking up from his datapad. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader said nothing for a moment, wondering if perhaps it would be wiser not to say anything, but... “Do you have children?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Piett was his most trusted officer. His work was always excellently done. Surely, if this man was a father, he’d excel at that, too. Maybe he could get...well. He wouldn’t ask for </span>
  <em>
    <span>help, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but maybe he could observe him…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do not.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hm. He’d have to figure out a good approach to his Luke problem on his own, then. It wouldn’t be a problem, of course--he was Darth Vader. He could do anything he set his mind to. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The next morning, he was yet again early to his appointment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah. It’s the gift giver himself.” Luke’s droid said by way of greeting. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was not a gift.” He growled at it. “I simply wished to ensure my therapist does not die of illness. I will </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>be starting this stupid process over again.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even as he said it, he couldn’t help but be pleased with himself. He was excellent at keeping things on the ‘down low,’ as his son so eloquently put it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The droid had the audacity to look him up and down. “Uh huh. Well. Since you refuse to sign in, I guess you may go in.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader rolled his eyes. “It is my ship. I will go where I please, droid, I do not need your permission.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He marched into the office. This time, he found Luke ready and waiting, sitting behind his desk as though everything were totally normal. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re early again.” Luke commented as the door swished shut behind him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We have much to deal with, </span>
  <em>
    <span>son.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Vader made a point of emphasizing the boy’s new title. “I have cleared these two hours as planned. One for your idiotic therapy, and the other so we can be productive in our relationship.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke stared at him for a long moment. Drew a deep breath, and leaned forward, steepling his fingers. “For this first hour, I am not your son. I am your therapist. I will do my job. That was our agreement.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It is a stupid agreement, but I will </span>
  <em>
    <span>humor </span>
  </em>
  <span>you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke’s eyes narrowed, then he leaned back in his seat, pulling up his precious datapad. “In honor of that agreement, I think it would be most productive to pretend during this first hour that I am not your son.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That is the opposite of productivity!” Vader pointed at him accusingly. “You just do not wish to accept--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, I’ve accepted that you’re my father, believe me, that’s...that’s not at all left my mind over the last few days. But for the sake of our therapist-client relationship, it needs to be this way.” Vader made a furious noise, but Luke pushed on. “So! Lord Vader. Why don’t you tell me how the last few days has been for you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now it was Vader’s turn to stare at the boy. He did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>understand why he was so insistent that their first hour together needed to be so </span>
  <em>
    <span>formal. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He was sure even the boy’s overly professional mother hadn’t been so stubborn! He had </span>
  <em>
    <span>no </span>
  </em>
  <span>idea where this was coming from. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was probably brainwashed by his therapy school. It was the only answer. He’d need to pay the school a visit at some point. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, if Luke wanted to play this game, he could play this game. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I found out that my dead son is actually alive and was kidnapped and raised on the worst planet in the galaxy by a adopted brother I have only spoken to once in my entire life for five minutes.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke made a note in his datapad. “Wow. That’s quite a traumatic revelation.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader growled, “No, I am...I am…” He unexpectedly hesitated, not sure how to define the feelings that he felt at finding out that his son was alive. “I am pleased.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke’s eyes flashed up to meet his. “Lord Vader, I think that’s the first positive expression you’ve made since we’ve met. Why don’t we elaborate on that more? I’m sure you don’t mean that you’re pleased that your son was kidnapped.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“No, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I do not mean that, especially considering it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>Kenobi </span>
  </em>
  <span>who stole him from me!” Vader’s hands curled into tight fists. “While I was recovering from the wounds </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>inflicted on me, he stole you from me!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Clearly, that’s something we’ll need to circle back to.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do not believe so!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke pointed to something to his right. “You smushed that metal art piece into a ball with your powers as you said that.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader looked to where he was pointing. Sure enough, one of the Executor-provided office decorations was sitting on an end table in a crumbled ball. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was a stupid decoration anyway.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re right, I can decorate better than that.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader glanced at the stuffed duck sitting in the corner and remembered the ridiculous ‘motivational’ posters outside in his lobby. He considered refusing to allow Luke to decorate any other parts of the ship. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anyway, I would still like to focus for a moment on the positivity you expressed. What about your description of the past few days made you pleased?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The answer was obvious, and he didn’t know why Luke was making him say it aloud. But he had a suspicion that the boy wouldn’t let it go until he said it, and he didn’t wish to endanger their second hour time by refusing to cooperate. “I am pleased that my son lives.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke nodded. “That would be a shock to anyone who’s thought their child dead. But in one of our previous sessions, when we were going over Core Values, I mentioned Family as one of the options. You specifically and forcefully told me, and I’m quoting here, ‘There is no use of that value! It does nothing but hold you back! Family is the galaxy’s greatest lie! In the end you are better off alone, less reason to be betrayed by those who claim to love you!’ Then when I went to make a note of it, you tried to rip my datapad from my hands and ended up dragging me halfway over the desk just to ensure that I didn’t accidentally write it down as one of your values.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader, for the first time in...in he didn’t know how long, was embarrassed by his own behavior. He really hadn’t had a good first start with his long-lost son. “Had you let go of the datapad I would not have dragged you halfway over your desk.” He chose to say instead. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That is not my point in bringing it up.” Luke gave him a half smile. “I do so because being pleased that your son is alive doesn’t sound like the reaction that someone who is totally against having family as a core value would be pleased about.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader crossed his arms over his chest. “I am the exception to the rule.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you?” There was a tense silence as they stared each other down. “Alright. Lord Vader, tell me about your day </span>
  <em>
    <span>yesterday.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader wasn’t sure he liked where this was going. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I had plenty of meetings tracking Rebel movements. They are not relevant to this discussion unless a certain </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone </span>
  </em>
  <span>wishes to take his rightful place at my side--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t need to get into the specifics of your war meetings.” Luke assured him, much to his displeasure. “Was there anything </span>
  <em>
    <span>else </span>
  </em>
  <span>that happened?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This boy… he knew </span>
  <em>
    <span>full well </span>
  </em>
  <span>what happened. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You ditched our lunch meeting.” He finally spat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, I didn’t ditch anything, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader growled. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“My son </span>
  </em>
  <span>ditched our lunch meeting.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That makes more sense.” Luke nodded. “Why don’t you tell me about that?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With anyone else, he’d strangle them for wasting his time repeating what they already knew. But this was his </span>
  <em>
    <span>son </span>
  </em>
  <span>and if he ever wished to persuade the boy to his side, he’d need to cooperate. “I had extra time. I dropped by the mess hall to eat with my son. I thought, considering that he’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>said </span>
  </em>
  <span>he wanted a connection with me, that he’d be pleased. Instead he made it quite clear that he was embarrassed to be seen being with me in public!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A strange look passed over Luke’s face, and he thought he might have finally gotten the boy to crack and drop the ‘therapist-client’ charade, but instead Luke said, “And how did that make you feel?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Feelings are irrelevant. The message was clear.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How did that message make you </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Luke pushed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It </span>
  <em>
    <span>frustrates </span>
  </em>
  <span>me that he wants so little to do with me and his destiny!” Vader finally exploded, roaring the answer at the boy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke’s expression remained neutral, though Vader didn’t miss his grip tightening on the pen. The only indication that he was more afraid of that outburst than he let on. “And what, exactly, is this destiny?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He is </span>
  <em>
    <span>my son. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He is not only heir to this Empire, but he has a power that he is </span>
  <em>
    <span>terrified </span>
  </em>
  <span>of and wants nothing to do with it!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke didn’t deny it. Then again, Vader wasn’t sure he would, given his little game. “That is something that’s really important that we should definitely unpack. But again, I still want to focus on this particular event, this...lunch meeting. What was the </span>
  <em>
    <span>purpose </span>
  </em>
  <span>of your lunch meeting?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wished to eat with my son, I told you that!” He snapped. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, you did, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>why?” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is it your job to ask obvious questions?!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It may seem obvious to you, but to others, it may not be so. Maybe to your son, there are numerous reasons you could have shown up to eat lunch with him, especially since he really doesn’t know you yet. It’s important, therefore, to answer those seemingly obvious questions to more deeply discover the motivations behind your thoughts, actions and feelings.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader glared. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t agree with the last point, but in regards to how Luke might have interpreted his actions...maybe he had a point. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wasn’t about to admit that aloud. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instead, he said, “I wished to spend time with my son. I know </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing </span>
  </em>
  <span>about him. It bothers me that he’s on the </span>
  <em>
    <span>same ship as me, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and I cannot spend the time I would like to in order to get to know him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke nodded in understanding. “That would be very frustrating. That makes a lot of sense. I notice that your statement of how you felt about </span>
  <em>
    <span>yesterday </span>
  </em>
  <span>has nothing to do with how you feel your son should be spending his life, but more about what you feel your son’s reaction means for your personal relationship with him.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There is no difference.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You yourself may treat your work as being the same as your personal life, especially considering how busy you must be, but in most people’s lives, work and personal life should ideally be separated. And, from what you just told me, it sounds like at least emotionally, there is a difference for you.” Luke waited for him to object, and when he didn’t immediately, he added, “You’re free to disagree with me. It’s your life, that’s just my interpretation on what you just said.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader wanted to disagree with him. It’s what Sidious would have wanted him to do. It’s what was required of him as a Sith Lord. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And yet…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He couldn’t. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When it was apparent that he wouldn’t disagree, Luke continued. “Again, this is just my observation, so feel free to disagree. But it sounds like your son, your </span>
  <em>
    <span>family, </span>
  </em>
  <span>is really important to you. Enough so that you’d take time out of your extremely busy schedule to see him. Perhaps, when thinking about your core values, one of them includes family--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader bristled, an automatic reaction, and words rose to his lips to vehemently deny it…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But his son was sitting right in front of him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Alive. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And there was so much of himself and his long-dead wife in him, plain to see in the boy. And...and maybe, if he looked hard enough, there were echoes of his own mother there. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I would venture so far as to say that there are a lot of negative associations with that core value. Core values aren’t always going to have positive associations. Core values are just...things we value to the point that they may motivate us to make certain decisions or say certain things or react certain ways to protect or pursue those values. Already, in the few days you’ve known your son, it seems like you’ve made a lot of decisions to pursue that familial relationship. Maybe your son being alive is your first positive association with that core value in a while, and your feelings about what happened yesterday is you trying to protect that newly formed bond. That sounds an awful lot like you value family more than you’d like to admit.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is your point?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My point, Lord Vader, is that I think between now and when we meet again, you should consider whether or not what I said is true. And if it is true, then perhaps you can think of ways you might pursue that relationship with your son that would make you both comfortable.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My son is a mystery to me. How would I even do that?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke carefully placed the datapad aside and stood. “Well. Your therapy session time is up...so maybe you can try communicating with him.” He grinned. “We have another hour to do whatever we want, don’t we?” </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>It was wild the difference between before Vader knew he was his son and after he knew. Before he could barely get anything from the man. Now...well, it was still extremely touchy. There were a few times his reactions had made Luke nervous (especially when he’d crumpled metal like it was a piece of flimsi paper without touching it), but overall the information...while still fragmented, offered far more to work off of than he ever did before. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Professionally, Luke felt bad about it. It almost felt like he was taking advantage of his relationship with his father to get him to open up. But it wasn’t like he hadn’t tried to fix that. He’d gotten a very firm </span>
  <em>
    <span>no </span>
  </em>
  <span>from his boss to change therapists. So...he’d just need to make it work and try not to wallow in guilt when he went to bed at night. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wish to know everything about your life.” Vader immediately said the moment it was clear that their therapy time was done. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean, there’s twenty two years of things that happened. Most of which are pretty boring since, you know, Tatooine is the most boring planet in the galaxy.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There is nothing boring when it concerns you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke let out a breath. The entire situation was odd beyond belief, and he’d never in a million years imagined it would happen this way, but to hear his </span>
  <em>
    <span>father </span>
  </em>
  <span>say that...after dreaming of it…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He felt terrible that his father’s first attempt to have a...somewhat normal outing with him had been so awkward. It definitely hadn’t been the right setting, and he would have preferred at least some warning. But then, he could fix that. He could do it without crossing his professional boundaries, too. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why don’t we talk about it while we do something together?” He asked, coming around the desk to approach his father. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stars. Vader was </span>
  <em>
    <span>tall. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He definitely didn’t inherit his height. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Like what?” Vader asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well...what do you like to do? I mean, besides work and your powers stuff.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader made a noise. “Powers stuff...the Force is not merely </span>
  <em>
    <span>powers stuff.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know what I mean.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader’s helmet tilted. For a moment, Luke wondered what his father looked like. Did he look at all like him? Or did he favor his mother? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Who was his mother? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No one has asked me what I ‘like to do’ in years.” Vader finally mused. He didn’t sound angry or frustrated or annoyed like he usually did. Just...pondering a simple question as though it were the most important question in the galaxy. “You...like to fix things, I noticed.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a moment, he couldn’t remember why Vader would know something like that, but then he remembered Cyl. “Oh. I mean, I like working on electronics, sure.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Does that extend to ships?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke brightened immediately. “Those are my </span>
  <em>
    <span>favorite </span>
  </em>
  <span>to work on.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader looked at him. Then, without warning, he turned on his heel and strode for the door. “Come with me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke blinked, then rushed after him. He’d technically left some time between the end of the hour and his next appointment, but… “Where are we going?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They entered his lobby and he noted Cyl giving him a look that meant he was sure to hear about </span>
  <em>
    <span>abandoning his post </span>
  </em>
  <span>or something from the droid later. “You will see.” Was Vader’s answer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is it far?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. Coincidentally, it’s actually close enough that we will both make our respective meetings on time.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well. As long as he was on time to his next appointment… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He followed Vader through brightly lit corridors. He was well aware that any officer or stormtrooper they passed turned to look at them once they had. He could feel their stares into his back…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he wasn’t embarrassed. Worried about how they might interpret it, sure. If his existence was really dangerous, he wasn’t keen on the Emperor ordering him killed. Or worse. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The worried erased from his mind the moment Vader reached the door he was looking for, inputted a code, and it opened to reveal a spacecraft hangar. A giddy rush of excitement filled him, and he couldn’t help but grin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was in a hangar full of ships. And, running a cursory eye over the vehicles in the hangar, they were </span>
  <em>
    <span>top of the line </span>
  </em>
  <span>ships. Most were Imperial made, which wasn’t a surprise given that they were on a navy ship, but there were prototypes Luke had either only seen in news bulletins sent to the military’s holomail as a distant possibility, or he didn’t recognize at all. Then there was the TIE Advanced that was famously Lord Vader’s personal fighter resting in the prime launching position, ready to be taken into battle. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Leave us.” Vader snapped at a few technicians who were in the room. They saluted, and as they rushed out, Luke didn’t miss the curious look they threw him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once the doors had swished shut behind him, Vader gestured to the room around them. “This is my personal hangar.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d started to gather that. He doubted those prototypes would just be sitting around where some random low level soldiers might accidentally break one of them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How’d you get access to some of these ships?” He asked. He himself was almost worried to approach, as if just looking at them might break one. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not that he couldn’t fix it. He could fix anything. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The manufacturer knows I have an interest in ships. At my home on Mustafar I have non-military vessels that are often gifts from others wishing to say they have ships flown by Darth Vader.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To Luke’s surprise, there was some amusement in Vader’s voice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Most never make it to production. Some I like to modify and keep. Some I modify and if I think it’s worthy to be mass produced for military use, I send it back so they can reproduce.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d heard so many rumors about Vader and his legendary piloting skills. He had no idea that extended to modifying ships. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader led him to a model that was half in pieces and motioned to it. “I am currently working on this one. It’s an old model that was never picked up by the Empire. The Emperor favored funding the Death Star over this.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke took a closer look, peering into the insides of the ship. “It’s really fine craftsmanship already.” He said, then did a double take as he realized what he was looking at. “Is that...is that a hyperdrive </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>deflectors?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Rebellion’s X-Wings had those, which was why even in small numbers they could take out much of the standard TIEs. Standard ties didn’t have either of those and relied solely on speed and the skill of the pilot. But if everyone was equipped with something like this… “Why </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>fund the expansion of this project? This could seriously turn the tide in this war!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The Emperor chose to make a gamble that paid off poorly.” From the open disdain in his voice, Luke could tell Vader hadn’t agreed with that decision. Which was odd, considering that it was Vader who had defended the Death Star before it had been blown to pieces. “I think there are some further modifications that could be done. Technology has improved since this project was last presented as a funding option, so if we could upgrade…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then maybe we could get it funded.” Luke finished. It was a good plan...a really good plan. He had no doubt Vader was pursuing it merely to gain the upper hand in battle, but the idea of less people dying...at least, on the Empire’s side of the war. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Truthfully, he didn’t care for either side. He just wished the war was over with. Less death, less people full of heartbreak and trauma. That’s all he wanted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And as a therapist, he fully planned to help those affected from either side once it was all done with. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doubted Vader would be understanding of that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader lifted his hand, and Luke had to suppress a shudder as a box of tools floated from a workbench on the other side of the room over to where they stood. When it reached them, Vader reached into the box and pulled out a tool, handing it over. “I have already assembled the parts to improve the hyperdrive. Show me what you can do to put it together.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke accepted the tool from him with a grin. “Challenge accepted.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They got to work. Though the ship itself was unfamiliar to him, one look at the parts Vader had pulled together and Luke understood exactly what he was going for. He launched right in, only occasionally needing Vader to offer further direction. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And as he worked, he told Vader exactly what he wanted to know. All about his life. As boring as it seemed to him, Vader didn’t seem bored in the slightest. Rather, he often asked clarifying questions, about Luke’s friends, about his aunt and uncle. He especially seemed satisfied that he and his uncle didn’t see eye to eye. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are a </span>
  <em>
    <span>Skywalker.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Vader said in response to him telling him about their many arguments about him leaving the planet to become a pilot. “You cannot keep a Skywalker out of the sky.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke grinned, tightening a bolt. “I told him that was the literal definition of my last name. Then he’d remind me legally my name is Lars, and Lars’ farm.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader made a noise that told Luke he’d probably have terrifying words with his uncle if he ever saw him. He made a mental note to keep them away from each other...at least until Vader had managed his anger better. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I almost ran away, you know. Actually, multiple times I tried.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Luke shrugged, suddenly embarrassed by the childish behavior. “I had every intention of becoming a pilot like my...like you. Though he told me you were a pilot on a spice runner.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He told you I </span>
  <em>
    <span>what?” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. I think he just told me that so I’d stop wanting to be like you and get myself killed. It did the opposite, actually. Once he caught up to me right before I signed up to join a spice smuggling operation as a pilot.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Should he tell Darth Vader, the guy who commanded the military that was in charge of stamping out such lawlessness, that he’d almost become a smuggler just to spite his uncle? It wasn’t like he’d joined and Vader </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>wanted to know everything, but it was still really weird. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You would not have thrived in such an environment. I have met enough smugglers to know this.” Vader said darkly, and at first Luke worried that maybe he’d said too much, but then Vader added, almost under his breath, “A </span>
  <em>
    <span>spice smuggler. </span>
  </em>
  <span>What an idiotic thing to fill your head with…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yeah. He’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely </span>
  </em>
  <span>need to keep Vader and his uncle away from each other. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, it didn’t work since I became, as you call it, a hippie therapist, and now we know each other!” Luke grinned at him before finishing the last piece of the hyperdrive. “I mean really, at least I didn’t become a smuggler.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader looked at him for a long moment, and suddenly Luke had the horrible realization that the man was deciding whether or not that was truly a worse profession. “Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>come on. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Being a therapist </span>
  <em>
    <span>has </span>
  </em>
  <span>to be more preferable than being a spice smuggler.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To his exasperation, Vader seemed to suddenly be very interested in his new completed hyperdrive. “Yes. Yes, you did very well on this. Perhaps you should have become a mechanic.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Truthfully, he’d considered it, but his uncle had worried such a high demand profession would somehow get him pulled into the war effort. And yet now here he was...with Darth Vader, working on a ship that could very well turn the tide of war in the hangar of the biggest star destroyer in the navy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That hadn’t exactly worked out as his uncle had planned, had it? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke glanced at his chrono watch and stood. “I have to get going. I need to be ready for my next appointment.” He paused, looking down at his father who still studied the completed hyperdrive. “This...I enjoyed this. We should do it again sometime...even if you do think my profession is just as bad as spice smuggling.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I did not technically </span>
  <em>
    <span>say </span>
  </em>
  <span>that…” Vader set the hyperdrive down then stood, facing him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke lifted his brows. “Yeah, but you still haven’t said it’s better, so...you know. I guess it’s not too late to change professions. Spice smuggling here I come, my father says it’s okay!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader crossed his arms over his chest. “I did not say </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>either.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But you </span>
  <em>
    <span>still </span>
  </em>
  <span>haven’t made your opinion conclusive.” Luke grinned, then turned and started for the doors. “I’ll see you in a few days.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The only sound he heard as he headed for the door was the sound of Vader’s breathing. But as he reached it, as he leaned over to touch the button that would open them, he heard Vader reply. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will see you, my son.” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Wow, two chapters in two days??? Say it ain't so! Haha like I said, I had part of this chapter written already, and I had meant to only work on it a little today, but then I got into the groove and here we are!!! I gotta finish the last chapter of Don't Let Go though, then I can focus more on this story. Hopefully that'll be this week. I hope you enjoyed! <br/>Love,<br/>Lady Vader</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. The Unofficial Mascot</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Working aboard the Executor was never boring, Luke had to admit. The problem was, he didn’t always immediately catch on that something was amiss because...well, Vader’s work environment was such that from Luke’s perspective, </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything</span>
  </em>
  <span> was amiss. All the time. As far as he could tell, the only person Vader liked outside of himself was Piett, and Luke couldn’t tell if Piett returned those feelings or if he simply endured. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Isn’t that...below your rank?” Luke asked one day when he happened to pass by and notice that Piett was working on collecting data himself. Not analyzing data. Not planning naval fleet battle strategies. Pulling data. Something a data entry position would do--something </span>
  <em>
    <span>Luke </span>
  </em>
  <span>could do, if he had the time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lord Vader does not trust the data that was pulled.” Piett said, and his expression was almost as perfectly calm as Luke thought his was during therapy sessions. “If the data is wrong, Princess Organa and her Rebellion may slip through our fingers again.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke frowned. He was always so wrapped up in his own job that he only knew the general basics of the war against the Rebellion, plus whatever else the officers complained about in their therapy sessions. But he </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>know Princess Leia Organa. She was princess to Alderaan, which...had been destroyed by the Empire while he was a sophomore in college. She’d managed to escape the Empire, and blew up the Death Star (Luke would never admit it out loud, but the only remorse he felt for the whole situation was the people on both sides who’d died and been hurt by the loss of loved ones. As far as he was concerned, the Death Star was an abomination). Now, she supposedly led a significant portion of the Rebellion, and it was rumored she had powers that aided her in battle. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now that he’d met Vader, he supposed that was possible. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So why are </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>doing it?” Luke asked, noting that Piett hadn’t exactly answered the question. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Piett paused and gave Luke a long look before sucking in a breath and replying, “Because it is an honor to serve Lord Vader.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That...still didn’t answer the question, but he got the feeling that he shouldn’t push, so he dropped it and made a mental note to discourage Vader from pushing tasks that could be delegated to the appropriate people onto him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As for the rest of the officers he served, he began to notice some shifts in the conversations they had during their sessions. But...not the shifts he would have expected. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How are you?” One officer asked when he sat down to begin his session. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m doing wonderful, how are you?” Luke asked, offering an easy-going smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good, but,” The officer leaned forward in his seat, his eyes narrowing in what Luke thought might have been concern. “How are </span>
  <em>
    <span>you? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Really?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke blinked in surprise, then began wondering if he’d gotten enough sleep the night before. No...he’d had eight hours. That wasn’t always the case though, so perhaps he looked tired? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m doing just fine, I assure you. Now, let’s pick back up from our last--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you ever need anything...just let me know.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Again, Luke was stunned momentarily speechless. “Ah...thanks?” Was all he could think to answer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Thankfully, the officer dropped it, and the moment the session finished and Luke was alone, he quickly took out a compact mirror and looked himself over. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>think </span>
  </em>
  <span>he looked any different than usual…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He brushed it off as a one time thing. Maybe he was just really nice and cared about others. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But then, other officers began acting strangely, too. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want you to have my comm number.” One officer slid a piece of flimsy paper over his desk. A number was scrawled on it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...I already have your comm…” Luke pointed at his datapad. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, but I want to make </span>
  <em>
    <span>sure </span>
  </em>
  <span>you have it. You know. Just in case.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke was afraid to ask. “In case of what?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The officer gave him an intense stare. “You know. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You know. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Just in </span>
  <em>
    <span>case.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke had zero idea what he was talking about and opted to just continue with the session. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just really wanted you to know how good of a job you’re doing.” Said another officer, and bizarrely, he gave him a hand-painted painting of a duck in an Imperial officer uniform with the words </span>
  <em>
    <span>I believe in you! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Scrawled on the bottom of it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m...I’m not supposed to accept gifts--” Luke started. At this point he was truly at a loss. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then think of it as a donation. You could hang it outside on your waiting room wall!” And the officer brightened so much, Luke had a feeling he just wanted his hard work lovingly displayed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well.” Luke said, looking at the painting. It was very well done, he had to admit--the duck even had a little officers cap on its head. “I suppose it’s motivational. I’ll ask Cyl to hang it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Later, as he handed the painting to Cyl, he asked, “Is there something wrong with me?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The droid looked him over, and Luke was certain that a scan was being performed. “Your stress levels are elevated, but not overly so. You appear to be as in good health as a human your age can be. Why?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t look...tired? Stressed? Concerning at all?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I cannot comment. All of you humans and your facial expressions look the same to me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I see...and there’s nothing special happening?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cyl tilted his head. “I do not have any Imperial or local holidays scheduled, though on Lothal it </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>Loth Cat day. Would you like to celebrate with holos of cute and or funny cats?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That won’t be necessary.” Luke assured him. “Just...if anyone mentions anything weird to you, like...like weirder than usual, could you let me know?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And yet the comments continued. By the time Captain Riss told him that he could talk to them if he needed it, he had to ask. “Why are you telling me that? I mean I appreciate it, but I’m your therapist. It’s my job to help </span>
  <em>
    <span>you. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It’s what’s professional. So what gives?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If he thought Captain Riss would give him a straight answer, he was wrong. He simply placed both hands on his desk and stared into his eyes with the most intense stare Luke swore he’d ever received. He was pretty sure it rivaled Vader’s. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If anyone...you know...makes you feel unsafe or threatened...you just </span>
  <em>
    <span>let us know.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A sinking feeling began to settle in Luke’s gut as he finally started to get an idea of what was going on. “Us?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. Just...you know. If you come ask us for help...or even if for...you know, even if you </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t, </span>
  </em>
  <span>just scream. We’ll come and do everything we can to help you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke’s lips pressed together as he struggled not to start groaning. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew </span>
  </em>
  <span>this would happen. Vader really wasn’t subtle at all, except apparently, everyone interpreted Vader’s fatherly gestures as further threats upon his life. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to feel about that, but at least the Emperor probably wouldn’t notice anything amiss if he were to order an internal investigation of Vader’s troops. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you, Captain Riss.” He did not miss the satisfaction on the man’s face as he leaned back. Now, let’s discuss…” </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Veers was certain he’d gone crazy--but then again, if he’d gone crazy, then he definitely needed a visit to the ship’s resident shrink. Still, his father had drilled it into him that real men handled their own problems silently and on their own, and if he were alive to see him approaching a therapist's office after visiting hours, he knew the raging lecture his father would have given him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he’d tried to deal with this issue on his own. He couldn’t...or he could, but it was tearing him apart from the inside. He’d heard his troopers and officers speaking highly of the new therapist, but it wasn’t until Piett had quietly praised the work he was doing that Veers decided that he’d ask for help. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He refused to do it during opening hours, though. So the moment the last patient left the office, Veers took the moment to quickly and quietly duck in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I help you?” A C-Y-L model droid asked. “You know we’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>closed.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Veers gritted his teeth. He hadn’t considered that the therapist might have a secretary, and he really didn’t want anyone to know he was there… “It’s...it’s an emergency appointment.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d read online somewhere that therapists often did emergency consults. He hoped it would work. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The droid stared at him for a moment, computing, then, “Wait here. I will check to see if Mr. Lars has time for an emergency appointment. Your name?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d...like to be quiet about it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can see from your uniform that you are a General.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sighed. There were just enough Generals that it wouldn’t take long for someone to figure out who’d come, and he’d have to give his name anyway… “General Maximillian Veers.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The droid turned abruptly and entered what he assumed was the therapist's office. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Veers waited for a moment, feeling rather exposed standing there. What if someone walked in and saw him? Worse, what if </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lord Vader </span>
  </em>
  <span>walked in and saw him? The therapist was, after all, specifically assigned to work with the Dark Lord, as ridiculous as that was. But Piett said Lord Vader had morning appointments with the therapist, so maybe--</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The droid returned. “Mr. Lars will see you, General Veers. Quietly.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Veers let out a breath and nodded curtly before heading into the office. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door closed behind him, and he found himself staring at...at…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A boy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good evening.” The boy greeted with a smile. Was he even </span>
  <em>
    <span>old enough </span>
  </em>
  <span>to be a therapist?? “Cyl tells me you are in need of an emergency session?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Veers struggled to reign in his surprise. He was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>general. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He commanded Lord Vader’s troops. He’d stared the enemy in the face and survived--triumphed. He would not be unprofessional towards this boy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even if he did look to be his own son’s age. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am here because I am in need of your assistance.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy nodded and gestured to a seat in front of his desk. “Please. Sit. You said your name was General Veers?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” He took a seat, still marveling at how young he looked, especially from up close. He couldn’t have been more than twenty…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m Luke Lars. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” The boy smiled, and Veers had to wonder how he hadn’t died by Vader’s hand yet. He seemed...too nice. “How can I help you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Veers opened his mouth to respond...and closed it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly, it was difficult to speak. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m...sorry. I...I’ve never spoken to a therapist...anyone, really, about this.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We don’t live in a society that values therapy. You’re not alone in that.” A look passed over the boy’s face, but it was gone before Veers could identify it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...My son…” The words burned his mouth. “I...he joined the Rebellion.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.” Luke nodded, as though he understood what that was like. “I understand. When did he join?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He...ran away when he was sixteen.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s really young...and have you seen him since then?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” He hesitated again. “I...wanted to pretend that he’d died. It would have been easier than to explain to others that I had a traitor for a son.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke’s lips tightened. “This war...it’s torn many families apart. You are by no means the only officer who’s had family defect.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He knew that. But he was Darth Vader’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>General… </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How does it make you feel to have cut your son off?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t answer for a few moments. It was...difficult, to put his feelings into words and then speak them aloud. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I...I had hoped that when he saw that I was serious, he’d return. I was disappointed when he didn’t want to follow the same career path as me...but now if he were to return, I’d be happy to just let him do whatever he wanted. I’d…” He glanced around as if he could see Vader ready to pop out of the shadows and start throttling him. “I’d even help him get amnesty for his crimes. He was brainwashed. He’s not a bad person. He’s not a terrorist. Not really.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was sympathy in the boy’s eyes. “Do you know if he’s alive?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Veers closed his eyes. “I believe so. I haven’t spoken to him in so long...I can’t be sure. I would assume that if he died, I’d receive some kind of notification of it. I’m still his next of kin, but the Rebels may not have even that much dignity to tell me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke nodded in understanding. “This sounds like something that you may want to talk about in more detail. There’s a lot to unpack...but the goal of an emergency session is to handle what currently has brought you into my office. So, why now? Why come see me so late?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Veers considered telling the therapist that his father had told him that all shrinks were crackpots who just wanted to steal his time and money, but he thought that would be unprofessional. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s...his birthday today. Every year I stare at my comm for hours, knowing I should call and wish him a happy birthday but...but I can’t. I don’t know what to say. And...I’m ashamed to admit, I’m afraid to. I know that my lack of communication and attention to him was what probably allowed the Rebellion to sink their claws into him, but I…” he thought of his own father. “Let’s just say I haven’t had a good role model when it comes to proper communication.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was half afraid that the boy would say he couldn’t help. He knew that was ridiculous...from the way his troops talked about Luke, it was as if they’d adopted him as their unofficial mascot. It seemed like Luke could do no wrong, and though Veers was a bit off put by his age, he wondered if Luke would understand how to speak to his son more than anyone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To his relief, Luke pulled out a datapad. “I think that’s absolutely something we can do together. If you’d like, I’ll even offer my support as you call. How does that sound?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Veers wanted to say he wouldn’t need help beyond coming up with what to say, but he also knew he’d likely take the cowards way out and not make the call if he was left alone. “Thank you, Mr. Lars.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please, call me Luke.” And again, something passed over the boy’s expression that he couldn’t identify before it disappeared with a smile. “Now, shall we?” </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Leia Organa was busy. She was always busy. It was difficult training to be a Jedi </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>leading a significant portion of the Rebellion. She would make sure Mon Mothma didn’t regret putting trust in her...more importantly, she’d make her parents proud. Even if they weren’t with her any longer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Though she had to admit, she </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>hated paperwork. She always had. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So when a knock came to her office door, she gladly jumped at the chance for a distraction. “Come in.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door swished open and in walked Zev Veers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh hey,” Leia smiled. She knew Zev from Coruscant. He was the son of one of Vader’s top generals, and therefore one of the top generals in the entire Empire, but he couldn’t be anything less like his father. He was sweet, kind almost to a fault, and if he wasn’t giving excellent service to the Rebellion, she never would have assumed he could harm a loth kitten. “Today’s your birthday, isn’t it?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zev gave her a tentative smile. She’d never seen General Veers smile, but she had to admit his son looked a lot like him. “Yeah.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Happy birthday!” She grinned. “You don’t happen to be here to invite me to cake, are you? Because I’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>love </span>
  </em>
  <span>some cake.” And an excuse to take a break from her work…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No...unfortunately not. We didn’t have much time to make one this year.” That was understandable, even if she couldn’t help but be disappointed. “I’m here because...well, I got a weird message.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She lifted a brow. So, Alliance business, then. She motioned to the seat in front of her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zev quickly took it and pulled out a comm. “You know I haven’t heard from my dad since I ran away to join the Rebellion.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Leia nodded. Zev was by no means the only person in the Rebellion who had a similar story, but considering who his father was, it was absolutely something she remembered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well...he contacted me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Leia frowned. “Well.” She began carefully, “I don’t want you to feel like you have to tell me or anyone else what it said. We understand that you can’t control your family, and they’re still your family, so if you wanted to speak with him--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks, but that’s not why I’m coming to you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.” Her confusion deepened. “Then why are you here?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zev shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “It’s just...the message was </span>
  <em>
    <span>weird.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And I thought you might want to listen to it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>didn’t want to listen to Zev’s father say whatever private thing he’d meant for his son. If it wasn’t information that could help them, she thought that should stay between them. But if he thought there was something of note that she should know… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay. Go ahead and play it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zev nodded and after pressing a few buttons on the comm, an image of General Veers appeared. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was odd, seeing him like this. He still wore his uniform, but usually when she saw him, he was wearing a combat helmet as well. Veers was not known for sitting on the sidelines while his troops died on the battlefield, so it wasn’t like she hadn’t run into him a few times over the years. But here, even in his dress uniform, he appeared almost casual. Or as casual as he could be, she supposed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Zev.” The man greeted stiffly. “I wanted to call and wish you a happy birthday.” It sounded like he was reading the message, and when she squinted, she noticed his eyes moving in a way that confirmed that he was definitely reading a pre-written message. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wanted you to know that, though I wish you had not made the choices you’ve made, you are…” his voice caught. “You are still my son.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh. Yeah. She really didn’t want to be watching this. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I...I also wanted you to know that, despite your choices, I am still proud of you. No matter what...your...your mother…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He paused. She took a closer look and found there were </span>
  <em>
    <span>tears </span>
  </em>
  <span>falling down his cheeks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She didn’t have time to process it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Speak from your heart. You can do this.” Someone who was definitely </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>Veers said in the kindest, most encouraging tone she’d ever heard. It was whispered, enough that had she not already been paying attention, she might have missed it. But it was definitely there, and it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely </span>
  </em>
  <span>not Veers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Veers squared his shoulders. “I’ll admit, I was lost after your mother died. She was so good with you, and I’ve...never had a good role model when it comes to parenting. But I’d hoped that through Imperial service, you and I could spend more time together. I...I see now that you didn’t ever want that, and by forcing you into service, I forced you away. I...I’m so sorry, my son, and though I cannot force you to come back, I...I hope that one day we can speak as father and son again.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>General Veers looked away, at something --or someone-- off camera, and that same person whispered, “You did so grea--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The message ended. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And she was left staring at the comm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know who that was,” Zev said, his face as serious as she’d ever seen it, “But he got my dad to call me and...look I didn’t even see my dad cry when my </span>
  <em>
    <span>mom </span>
  </em>
  <span>died. I’m pretty sure he considered me dead to him.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Leia sat back in her chair, troubled. It was such a small thing, but…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You...don’t think that might have been Vader’s court-mandated therapist, do you?” Zev asked, looking nervous to even mention Vader’s name. Most of the Rebels tried to avoid mentioning him, knowing what he’d done to her and countless others. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That therapist has got to be dead by now.” Leia shook her head, but the Force...didn’t feel right when she said it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What if he isn’t?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then...then that changes nothing. But again, there’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>no way </span>
  </em>
  <span>Vader would let a therapist fix him, let alone live. Maybe your dad just has a good friend or something.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zev didn’t look convinced. “Maybe.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She wished she had an answer for him. The message was...intensely personal, but just bizarre enough that it bothered her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If it helps, I’ll consult the Force for answers. And if that doesn’t work, I’ll talk to my Master.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zev nodded and stood. “Thanks. Sorry for making you sit through that, but I didn’t know how else to describe it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Leia waved it off. “It’s fine.” Then, a thought occurred to her. “You...don’t have to tell me, but I’m curious. Are you going to respond?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hesitated. “I’m...not sure yet.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She nodded in understanding. “Take your time. Don’t force anything you don’t have to.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He assured her he would and left. She watched him go, and continued staring at the door in contemplation long after he’d left, replaying the whispered words in her head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Perhaps she should skip straight to consulting with her master for answers…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because somehow, she had a feeling that whoever this was, they might just be more important than she realized. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>No Vader in this chapter, but other things needed to be put into play and I still giggled while writing this chapter! Lol poor Luke is basically accidentally starting his own cult....a cult of therapy. No one can touch him. No one. Even the Rebels are confused. <br/>All of my planned exchange fics and birthday fics have been written, so I should now be back to my alternating crack, angst story posting!!! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! <br/>Also, I started a Luke and Vader specific discord. Because my soul belongs to Luke and Vader content these days. See the link if you'd like to join! https://discord.gg/s8qcnyqueW<br/>Love, <br/>LadyVader23</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. The First Lesson</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“What happened to your office?” Vader demanded upon entering Luke’s lobby fifteen minutes before his appointment time to find Luke putting up more of those infernal posters. Except they </span>
  <em>
    <span>weren’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>posters, he realized upon a second glance--they appeared to be hand-done. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke glanced over his shoulder. “Oh. Hey. Do you think this looks straight?” He motioned to the...was that a </span>
  <em>
    <span>painting? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader didn’t answer the question. He simply approached his son, crossed his arms, and looked at the avalanche of positivity that had appeared on the walls. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“YOU are UNIQUE, YOU are SMART, YOU are TALENTED, YOU are WORTH IT, YOU are VALUED, YOU are AMAZING, YOU are LOVED, YOU MATTER!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader felt like that one was stabbing into his brain with every other word. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your mental health is a priority!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Was it though? He could think of multiple things he cared about more than so called </span>
  <em>
    <span>mental health. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The painting Luke was currently hanging said: “The best way to predict the future is to create it!” The words were painted over a duck pointing its wing at him. It was admittedly a well-done duck, but nauseating, all the same. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He scowled at that one and pointed to it. “I can say from personal experience that is not true whatsoever.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke inclined his head. “I feel like it needs some additional clarification, I agree, but this is going to be my wall of donated therapy art.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A </span>
  <em>
    <span>wall of therapy art?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Vader hated it already. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. People keep giving me therapy-themed art. I figured it might be nice to show off the talents of the people who work here. I mean the rest of the ship is so drab--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because it’s a </span>
  <em>
    <span>military </span>
  </em>
  <span>ship! It’s meant to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>efficient, </span>
  </em>
  <span>not...not whatever </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>is.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke lifted a brow. “Would you like to create something for the wall?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader sputtered. “That is the opposite of what I want!” He tried to think of what he’d even put on a ridiculous poster...a Sith mantra? One of the lessons Palpatine had given him over the years? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Somehow, he doubted Luke would find it inspirational. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It doesn’t have to be therapy themed. Maybe something you make that calms you down?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you have not noticed, I am not in the habit of </span>
  <em>
    <span>creating </span>
  </em>
  <span>anything.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke shrugged. “It could be something like schematics for...for something cool, I don’t know. I bet you’d like making that?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader opened his mouth to vehemently deny it...but he actually did enjoy making or modifying schematics. Not that he ever had time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wouldn’t admit that, though. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This decor style had better not infiltrate other parts of my ship,” he warned instead, pointing a warning finger in Luke’s face. “Now will we get on with this session or not?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Though Luke didn’t seem pleased to have a finger shoved into his face, he gestured towards the open office door. “After you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He needed no further encouragement. He swept into the office, heading immediately for the window, staring out into the endless stars. As soon as he heard the doors swish shut, he added, “I trust that you remember that your first lesson is today?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke’s response was not immediate, and he turned, ready to push destiny and duty, but he finally spoke before he could. “I remember.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was sitting down at the desk, using that opportunity to hide his expression. Vader didn’t need to see it, though. A simple glance into their bond told him all he needed to know. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His son was apprehensive. Incredibly so. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You will be a natural, I have no doubt.” Vader assured him confidently. “You are </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>son. The Force is who you are.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By then, Luke had finished settling in, and his face twisted just barely. But before Vader could insist again, Luke said, “Well our session has just started, so now I’m not your son. I’m your  therapist, and we’re here to talk about you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader scowled. If he hadn’t agreed to those stupid </span>
  <em>
    <span>boundaries </span>
  </em>
  <span>in the first place, he’d make it his personal mission to get Luke to slip up during their session. Maybe he could still make it happen without making Luke realize it… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, over the last few times we’ve met, you’ve brought up a number of things that I think we should circle back to,” Luke began, pulling his datapad out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There is nothing to circle back to.” Vader insisted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“On the contrary, there’s plenty. I’ll...admit it’s a bit hard to know where to start, but I thought, given your recent discovery of your son, maybe you’d like to start by talking about this Kenobi guy?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader’s fists clenched. As always, the mention of that man’s name sent white hot rage through him. Luke must have picked up on it, because he shifted in his seat uncomfortably. He did not miss the way his eyes darted to the newly-repaired port window, likely checking for damage. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“All you need to know is that he kidnapped you and destroyed my life! There is </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing </span>
  </em>
  <span>more to talk about.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Except that if someone has the ability to destroy your life, that person had a really important role in it to have that kind of power over you--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He has </span>
  <em>
    <span>no power over me!” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He couldn’t help it. He roared it at the boy, and he was raving before he could respond. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Unless you know Kenobi’s whereabouts, we will </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>speak of him! That is part of Anakin Skywalker’s past, and we will </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>speak of his past!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke’s brows furrowed in confusion. He half expected to remind him that he already had accidentally said things about Anakin’s past, but instead he asked, “What do you mean, Anakin Skywalkers past? You’re Anakin Skywalker, aren’t you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anakin Skywalker was </span>
  <em>
    <span>weak. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He could not protect those he loved, and he died because of it!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke stared at him unblinkingly. Then, after a silence, he briefly bit his lip, then said, “So. Your son is Luke Skywalker.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader rolled his eyes. “You know I hate it when you state the obvious.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I know, just...bear with me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader glared at him, waiting for him to cave under the weight of it...but unlike the majority of those who worked aboard his ship, Luke didn’t flinch away or crumble. When it was evident that he wouldn’t let up, Vader growled, “Yes.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And his father is Anakin Skywalker.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“His father is </span>
  <em>
    <span>me.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But Anakin Skywalker is dead.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We took a blood test, if you do not remember.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So you took a blood test and it was a positive match, but his father is still Anakin Skywalker?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader was not sure he liked where Luke was going with this. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>son.” Luke opened his mouth and he quickly pointed at him. “Don’t you </span>
  <em>
    <span>dare--” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But Luke Skywalker is the son of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Anakin Skywalker. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Who is you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you must be </span>
  <em>
    <span>simplistic about it, </span>
  </em>
  <span>fine!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The words were out before he’d intended to say them, and he immediately cursed himself. How did Luke manage to get things from him at all? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So...to sum up, you were Anakin Skywalker, but for reasons we haven’t discussed--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>will--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“--you became Darth Vader. That sounds to me like you made some drastic life decisions that gave you a new start to life. People often experience at least one life altering event that leaves them having to change significant portions of who they are, but it’s not often that people pretend the life they had before is completely dead and separate.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am not most people.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m aware.” Luke said dryly. “It sounds to me that whatever happened to change your life, you experience feelings that make you wish to hide your past. Perhaps because you’re ashamed?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader sputtered incredulously. “I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>ashamed!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was just a guess. I’m just trying to understand why you feel so averse to your life as Anakin Skywalker that you pretend he’s dead, because that’s absolutely a coping mechanism response, possibly to trauma--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am not traumatized either! I am not </span>
  <em>
    <span>weak!” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke gave him a long, serious stare. When he finally spoke, his voice was low but firm, unyielding. “Experiencing trauma does not make the survivors </span>
  <em>
    <span>weak, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Lord Vader. Trauma healing is one of the hardest things anyone can do. That includes Sith, Jedi, magicians, whatever you want to call yourselves. You don’t have to address your traumas if you aren’t ready to, but please never call those who experience trauma weak.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader opened his mouth to vehemently object...but he couldn’t. He wasn’t sure why. Perhaps it was the expression paired with the grave seriousness in Luke’s voice? Or perhaps, it occurred to him that kidnapping might be considered a serious trauma, and Luke had been kidnapped…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Did Luke think he was calling him weak? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>his intention. He disagreed with Luke’s hippie lifestyle, but his son...well, they didn’t know each other well, but he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>his </span>
  </em>
  <span>son. No son of his would be weak. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t express it though. He knew what Luke would say. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Why view yourself as weak when you just said I’m not weak from my trauma? What makes us different?” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh stars. He was thinking like his hippie son. He did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>like where that train of thought was going. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But thankfully, Luke had moved on. “As I was saying. I’m trying to understand why you’re so opposed to having anything to do with your life as Anakin Skywalker, especially since you seem to want to be involved in his son’s life.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s entirely different.” He waved it off. “But if you must know, my Master gave me the name Darth Vader.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke’s lips pinched. “Master?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The Emperor.” Vader clarified. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I figured, but...</span>
  <em>
    <span>master?” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader wasn’t sure why he seemed hung up on that word. “It is what Sith apprentices call those who teach them.” He hesitated. “It...is also what Jedi call their teachers while they learn.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wasn’t sure why he added that, or why he was suddenly feeling so defensive over the term. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well...I mean I guess I could see that.” Luke mused. “If it’s just a term of respect…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wasn’t sure he’d call the Emperor </span>
  <em>
    <span>Master </span>
  </em>
  <span>as a term of respect. It may have started that way, but now…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke asked, “But your master doesn’t want you to use your old name?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader...actually paused and considered the question. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Henceforth, you shall be known as Darth Vader. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Those had been the Emperor’s words to him, and since that day, he’d never called him anything but Vader. And he himself never thought to object to it, especially after…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He quickly moved away from that thought. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And yet he’d allowed Count Dooku to keep his name...but perhaps even then, there had been a purpose to that? And he got to keep his name--the whole galaxy knew him as Emperor Palpatine, not Darth Sidious. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I...do not think he would approve of me using my old name, no.” He answered honestly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke frowned. Squinted at him. Then suddenly asked, “When was the last time you did something that had nothing to do with being a Sith or leading a war?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I fail to see how that is relevant to the conversation.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s a good thing it’s an easy question, then.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>More like an annoying question...but he’d play along. “You and I worked on ships together a few days ago.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Spending time with your long lost son is a healthy activity, so that’s good. But what about before that? When was the last time you did something for yourself?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader thought about it. “It is...rare I have time to myself. I have a military to lead and an Empire to help run.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course, but even the busiest people get time for themselves. Does the Emperor get time to do...whatever it is he likes to do?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He...has been known to take retreats, every once in a while.” Though he doubted it was to go to a sunny vacation world… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, so when was the last time?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I...I occasionally work on my ships…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a silence as he trailed off. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And the last time was…?” Luke prompted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tried to remember. “I...believe it was before the war with the Rebellion escalated. So, before the Death Star.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Alright then. I think I know what I’d like for you to work on before you come back to see me next week. I’d like for you to take some time for yourself.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader stared at him. “You...are giving me an assignment to relax?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Think of it as more of a challenge.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That is </span>
  <em>
    <span>hardly </span>
  </em>
  <span>a worthy challenge.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, you’re a busy guy. Is it easy to find time for yourself?” When he didn’t reply, Luke gave him a half-smile. “See? Challenge. Just...do something you enjoy. No interruptions. No one telling you what you have to do.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you not technically telling me what to do?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke actually laughed at that. It was a clear sound, one he...actually was pleased to hear. It wasn’t often he heard the boy laugh. “You’re not wrong, though I really don’t mean it as an order. Just a challenge. I’d love to hear about it next session if you do it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That is a significant </span>
  <em>
    <span>if. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I am an adult. I have no time for </span>
  <em>
    <span>fun.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And yet even adults need time to do something they enjoy.” Luke suddenly stood, and he realized that they were at the end of their time. “So? Challenge accepted?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader stared at the hopeful face of his son. It was naïve to think he’d even find time to do something mundane in the middle of a war. He knew the Emperor wouldn’t approve, either. He should scoff and tell Luke he would one day learn the harsh realities of leadership. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he also couldn’t help but think about the Emperor keeping his birth name...and going on retreats. They weren’t often, but...they did happen. He’d even gone on retreat the year before, while he’d been on the front lines…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We shall see.” He said instead, and Luke grinned. But that grin disappeared when he added, “Now it is time for your first lesson, my son.” </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Luke didn’t want anything to do with the Force or whatever Vader called his mystical powers. Perhaps had he been told that his father had that power before he knew who Vader was, he’d feel differently...no. He still liked his job. Maybe he would have been enthusiastic before he’d ever left Tatooine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Based on what he’d seen from Vader, his job and the Force were totally incompatible. That was confirmed the moment Luke entered what appeared to be a room specially designed for training  and was immediately handed a cylindrical object. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have you seen one of these?” Vader inquired as Luke inspected it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Um.” Luke turned it over. It felt foreign and wrong. “Not up close. It’s a lightsaber, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” For some reason he got the distinct impression that Vader was pleased he wasn’t completely lost. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You threatened to use this on the school administration board for charging so much.” Luke reminded him. “But you </span>
  <em>
    <span>won’t.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader made a noncommittal noise and unclipped his saber from his belt. This one was different in design. “You will one day make your own saber, but for now you can borrow that one.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke tried to relax and nodded. Perhaps the reason he didn’t like the feel of this saber was precisely for that reason, he thought. “But isn’t this a weapon?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader’s mask was as impassive as ever, but he was certain he was on the receiving end of a exasperated glare. How was he able to sense Vader’s moods so clearly? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. It is often the difference between life and death.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke grimaced. “I’m...not exactly interested in being turned into a solider--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader’s mood instantly darkened, and Luke shivered as he pointed in his face and stated, “You are my </span>
  <em>
    <span>son. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Not only do you have a destiny to fulfill, but you will also forever face dangers simply because of your relation to me! I will </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>have you defenseless!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A pit began to form in his stomach, and his grip tightened on the saber. He’d once dreamed of a life of adventure...he still did, sometimes. But the idea of the completely foreign life being thrust on him without his consent…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tried to keep his breathing even. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Regardless, are you sure you should be shoving this in my hands before I even know the first thing about the Force?” Luke asked, hoping his father would take the bait. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader ominously breathed, that cold feeling still wrapping around Luke until finally, it released. “You will one day have to face that reality, my son. You cannot be a hippie forever. For now, keep the saber. It is yours until you make your own.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It took all of Luke’s training to keep a straight face. “Great...thanks.” He clipped it to his belt, where it felt impossibly heavy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader began to pace. “The Force is not magic, as you’ve so crudely referred to it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“To be fair, that’s exactly what it looks like to someone who has no understanding of it.” Vader paused, and Luke cleared his throat, realizing that he was, in his anxiety over the whole situation, interrupting. “Sorry.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sith do </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>apologize.” Vader warned. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke...couldn’t help it. Years of therapy training had him thinking over all the problems of that statement and how, as a result, it explained a lot about Vader. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s an essential healthy habit--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“No. </span>
  </em>
  <span>We are </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>in a session, Young One!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>but you can’t tell me not to apologize for being rude--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader was absolutely glaring now. He just knew it. “Since you are so fond of boundaries, allow me to set my own.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke’s brows rose. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You will not utter apologies while in Force training. That is not the way of the Dark Side. If possible, I would never hear such words come from your mouth in my presence at </span>
  <em>
    <span>all.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Somehow, he wasn’t surprised that Lord Vader hadn’t quite grasped the meaning of healthy boundaries. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I appreciate that you feel comfortable enough to set a boundary with me, but I do think we need to work on understanding the difference between healthy and unhealthy boundaries.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are cheating!” Vader growled furiously. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. But we can save that for our next session.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader stared at him for so long, Luke half-thought he was already frustrated enough to give up on him. But instead, he made an odd noise and continued with his explanation of the Force. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The Force is an energy field that binds the galaxy together. This includes everything from sentient life down to inanimate objects.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke was actually surprised to have some familiarity with that concept. He’d actually always enjoyed learning about those religions, though there hadn’t been very much information on them. “We learned about cultural religions who had similar beliefs. That makes sense.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There are many names for it, just as there are different ways to use it. The </span>
  <em>
    <span>Jedi,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Vader spat the word with such venom that Luke made yet another mental note to circle back to that topic in a future session, “used it to study the Light, which is a lesser form of the Force. They were </span>
  <em>
    <span>weak </span>
  </em>
  <span>as a result, and their uprising against the Empire failed as a result.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I see…” Luke frowned, wondering how Vader would react if he asked for elaboration on the Jedi. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Vader was already moving on. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There are creatures who have special abilities granted to them by the Force at birth. We call those Force Sensitives. That is what you and I are. It is why we are able to bend the Force to our will.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It still sounded a lot like magic, but Luke doubted Vader would appreciate him pointing that out. Besides, as he spoke, it was obvious he was passionate about it, and Luke knew better than to put down something he believed in so much. “And the Dark Side? You’ve said you...use that. What is it?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What he didn’t say was, “Why does that sound so evil?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t need to though. “It is only called that because it is, by its very nature, secretive, down to our very names.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He...supposed that explained more about why his father wasn’t going by his birth name. That still didn’t give Luke any less bad vibes over it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Vader wasn’t finished. “The Dark Side is the strongest form of the Force. It gives us the ability to control even the most impossible.” A hesitation. “There...is even a rumor that it could even stop death.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke bit his lip. He’d been victim to some of Vader’s impossible powers, but to stop death...that seemed far-fetched. He decided to slightly change the subject. “And how exactly do you use it?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He felt Vader’s approval. “The Dark Side is controlled with raw emotion. It is controlled with your </span>
  <em>
    <span>passion. </span>
  </em>
  <span>You pour your hatred, your anger, your </span>
  <em>
    <span>fear </span>
  </em>
  <span>into it, and the more you pour in, the stronger you are.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The pit in his stomach grew as realization dawned on him. It wasn’t a realization that had anything to do with him learning the Force, but with why Vader was the way he was. Why he </span>
  <em>
    <span>resisted </span>
  </em>
  <span>therapy so much. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He must not have been keeping a good sabacc face, because Vader was again glaring at him. “If you are about to give me pathetic therapeutic excuses--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m pretty sure the way I’m feeling about this has...I mean it does have to do with therapy but I’d feel this way even without being a therapist!” Luke shook his head. “While it’s important to address your negative feelings, there are ways to do that in a </span>
  <em>
    <span>healthy </span>
  </em>
  <span>manner! Using those feelings to fuel your power, which are then used to hurt people--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have used these powers to bring order to the galaxy!” There was definitely a threatening tone in Vader’s voice. Luke was on thin ice, but the idea that Vader wanted him to do something so </span>
  <em>
    <span>unhealthy… </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s great, except you didn’t tell me that’s what I’d have to do to learn this power!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader appeared to be trying to get it under control, but he was failing. A rack of lightsabers on the far wall had begun to shake...and this time, Luke motioned to it. “How? How is </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>healthy?! I can’t tell you what to do with your job, but I’m your son and you’re so mad that I have no desire to use my emotions that way that I feel like you’re about to throw one of those at me! Which is abusive behavior!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The shaking only marginally calmed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you are about to suggest you become a </span>
  <em>
    <span>jedi--” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I’m suggesting that you allow me to choose what or what not to do with these powers! And right now I’m choosing </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>to use them, not if it means making myself miserable because I have to pour all of my negativity into using them!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You could use them right now if you wished. You seem plenty </span>
  <em>
    <span>negative </span>
  </em>
  <span>enough.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke...didn’t disagree with him. And that’s what made him feel even worse. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The answer is </span>
  <em>
    <span>no. </span>
  </em>
  <span>If you’re so worried about my safety, we can discuss other self defence--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You will </span>
  <em>
    <span>NOT </span>
  </em>
  <span>waste your potential!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The rack of sabers exploded, sending sabers flying. Luke was moving before he even thought to stop himself. His hand outstretched, as though to push the sabers back before they hit him…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And the sabers pushed back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The entire </span>
  <em>
    <span>room did. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even Vader was knocked back, though he quickly steadied himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When the room settled, everything was in shambles, and Luke was shaking violently, staring at his outstretched hand like it had personally offended him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you see?” Vader, to Luke’s horror, suddenly sounded triumphant, as though he’d won some battle of wills. “Do you feel that </span>
  <em>
    <span>power </span>
  </em>
  <span>running through you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He did. Stars, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>and...and…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He imagined himself losing his cool in the middle of a therapy session. What if he hurt someone he was trying to help? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Slowly, he dropped his hand. Then he looked back at his father...who suddenly seemed to be realizing that this was not the triumphant moment he was hoping for. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I won’t.” Was all he said, and before Vader could react, Luke turned his heel and ran from the room. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Well. That didn't go as planned for anyone involved, did it? I realized that even just the description of the Dark Side would put this Luke off from using it. It's very mission is antithetical to therapy, and Luke is still dealing with his father being Vader, let alone...all of that. So even without being a Jedi, Luke's like "lol nope." And the poor guy has no other reference for the Force. <br/>Leave some love!<br/>Love, <br/>LadyVader</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Buckle in for a wild ride, everyone! I've been excited to write this one for MONTHS now! Hope ya'll enjoy! <br/>Love, <br/>LadyVader23</p></blockquote></div></div>
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